


Mostly Armless

by OscarLeogere



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Broken Arms, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:28:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1522847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OscarLeogere/pseuds/OscarLeogere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles ends up crashing the Jeep, breaking both of his arms and that means he can't do anything for like six whole weeks. Naturally with his Dad working, Scott out of town and the fact that he'd told a little lie about being in a relationship with Derek...   Derek winds up with Stiles in his care.<br/>Without full movement of his arms Stiles gets pretty <i>frustrated</i>. Suffice to say, some things are going to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Some parts are slightly dubious in consent, for full details see the end of each chapter (basically, it's all consensual, but lacking in full disclosure of what was going to happen)

Stiles’ eyes opened very slowly. They were dry and every blink gave little jabs of pain. Stiles decided to close them again. This place _stank_. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew it was familiar. He felt sore, his body aching all over. After a few minutes he heard the sound of a voice he recognised.

“Stiles,” Derek almost whispered at him. “Are you awake?”

Stiles tried to speak, but his throat was too dry so it came out as a strange mating call. What a great way to wake up. He took a breath in and he could smell alcohol rub. He tried to move his head, but his neck cricked as he turned. He figured was enough reason to give up on the endeavour. He took another sniff, this was a hospital. It _had_ to be, nowhere else in the world smelt like alcohol rub and disinfectant.

There was another voice in the door. “Derek,” The Sheriff called, “You’ve got to go home now, you need some sleep and the visiting hours are ending in a minute, if Stiles wakes up Melissa knows to call you.”

Derek’s and Stiles’ fingers brushed together for a fleeting moment. Stiles heard his footsteps move away, Derek’s presence disappearing. Stiles tried to open his eyes again, but he couldn’t manage it, his body resisting. It wasn’t all that surprising, after all he did feel tired. Stiles wondered what it might be that was making him tired, but his thoughts fell flat on their face within a few seconds and he fell asleep.

It took just over ten hours later (or a few seconds of a morphine induced sleep) for Stiles to wake up again. Derek was by his side, Stiles wasn’t entirely sure how he knew, he must have heard something in his sleep. He could feel something rub against his fingers and he tried to open his eyes. They weren’t as difficult to pry apart as it had been the night before, but he opened them warily anyway. After a few blinks his eyes were opened fully.

Stiles tried to move his fingers against Derek’s hand, but it was to no avail. He tried to turn his head slightly again, the soreness was still there as he turned, but he saw Derek smiling at him.

“You are never allowed to drive in the Jeep again. Not that you could, mind.” Derek smiled. Derek pulled his chair closer to Stiles. “You were in a crash a few days ago, it was some drunk driver, apparently he swerved in front of you. You’ve broken both arms in two places, apparently that’s pretty rare.”

Stiles wanted to speak, but his throat failed him and he ended up letting out a dry cough, better than the weird wail he let out yesterday. Derek reached over to a glass of water on the side. Though the ‘glass’ was in reality a small cup with a straw sticking out of the top. When the straw was near his mouth Stiles puckered his lips slightly and the plastic entered his lips gently.

After a few mouthfuls of water Stiles’ throat was no better off, to be honest in Stiles’ opinion it was slightly worse, but he muttered a croaky thanks.

“So from what I hear, your Dad thinks the reason we spend so much time together is because we’re dating.” Derek said.

His throat clamped up and he let out a feeble cough.

“That’s exactly what I said,” Derek smiled, “It was less of a cough and more of a ‘why do you think that?’, but he said that _you_ told him about it last month when he got suspicious of you spending time at my house. He then he pressured me for details and I may have panicked and I may have told him that we’ve been dating for six months.”

“What the fuck?” Stiles managed.

“It gets better.” Derek smirked, (Stiles groaned). “It turns out that because you’ve got these casts for your arms, because Scott’s at that stupid werewolf camp thing that you sent him on, and because your Dad’s working full time… your Dad has very kindly decided to forgo the threatening me for defiling his son and instead has suggested that I look after you while your arms recover.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. He tried to let out another exclamation, but at that moment Nurse McCall walked in and any opportunity that Stiles might have to swear as loudly as possible had been ruined. Stiles was not impressed, that lie was a _bad_ move, it hadn’t been at the time, there had been a Lorelei (basically a siren) that had worked her way up stream and that had meant that Scott was enamoured and needing constant supervision (otherwise he’d have been eaten). He did try saying he was at Scott’s, but when his dad discovered that was a lie he just, improvised.

Thirty minutes later Stiles was sat up in bed, in pain, and was staring at his two arms. He literally would not be able to do anything, he wouldn’t be able to bend them, use his hands, and on the list of additional rules was the fact that he’s not allowed to get the cast wet for a period of _six weeks_. This was going to be hell. How was he meant to shower, his arm was going to be gross!

“You’ll have to be keep it dry. A shower isn’t completely out of the question, but you’ll have to use something to keep the water out of your cast.” Nurse McCall suggested. “You’ll obviously need some kind of assistance, but we really do suggest some kind of damp cloth wash as the water is easier to control.”

So this was going to be deadly mortifying, right? Stiles wanted to die, Derek was going to be helping him in the shower or helping him wash with a cloth and that’s ten times worse than any method of death Stiles was not too drugged to think of. This was without a doubt going to be the most embarrassing month and a half of his life and considering there was the blowback after that _one time_ he asked out the lesbian at school _two days_ after she came out (Stiles could still hear her snark, he hadn’t even known).

It wasn’t until he heard a question coming from his father that he realised that this was going to be so much worse. “Melissa, will he be able to carry on using a catheter?”

She shook her head, “Derek isn’t properly trained, and it produces risk of infection anyway. We could provide a bottle, but I wouldn’t think it necessary?”

Stiles arms weren’t particularly dextrous at the best of times, but with only slight finger movement… he hadn’t _actually_ tried to see if he could reach his junk, but he wouldn’t be able to handle anything there and he didn’t think it would be worth the effort. Stiles opened his mouth to protest, “You’re sending me home while I can’t even use the toilet?”

Yes. Yes they are.

Some hours later and Stiles had been cleared for discharge. Stiles’ and his dad would be in the police cruiser and Derek would be behind in the Camaro. It wasn’t until a few minutes into the journey that Stiles remembered they weren’t going home.

“Dude, am I really staying at Derek’s for six weeks?”

“Well, you can come to stay with me on weekends, if you really want, but unless your old man to be dealing with your personal care it makes sense. You’d probably spend most of your time there this summer anyway and if I get called out, then I’m not around to look after you.”

Stiles gawped, “But he has to help me _shower_.”

The Sheriff shrugged, “Don’t pretend I don’t know what’s going on. I was seventeen once and if I’d been with a girl for six months then there’s no way that -”

“Dad!” Stiles tried to throw his hands in the air, but they stubbornly didn’t move, or more, they did along with the whole of his rigid arm. “I do not need any of those images.”

“Well. I’m glad we’re both agreed then. I’m still not overly thrilled by this relationship, and this is anything but a stamp of approval. But that boy was by your side throughout the whole thing and he cares about you. I have to admit though, I had started to get worried by your lack of friends and it’s reassuring that you finally have someone more than Scott.”

Stiles decided not to respond to that bait. It would only end badly. Stiles would say that he didn’t need other friends. The Sheriff would say that he didn’t mean to pry and follow it up with another seemingly well-meant comment about Stiles’ private life, perhaps about his friends having a high death rate and ask him if he wanted to talk. He’d not say anything directly against Stiles, but he could read between the lines.

“I had asked Derek if he’d be happy to take you a few weeks. He said that if you’re staying there for a few weeks, you might as well stay for the whole recovery, besides would you rather want your dad or your boyfriend looking after you? Not to mention, if we want to go away over Christmas with Melissa and Scott, I need my vacation time saved, so I figure it’s the best of both worlds.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Okay, so it did make _some_ sense, and obviously he wouldn’t be able to masturbate so if he started to smell _‘_ frustrated’ at any point, it’s not as if Derek wouldn’t understand. Stiles is a young, healthy, red-blooded man with far too much testosterone. Sure, it’s going to be weird as fuck having Derek helping him use the toilet and wash him but it is better him that his Dad and an awkward boner or two can be blamed on being all ‘pent up’ and not… _Derek._

Stiles had positives to look forward to as well. Derek washing him and touching him were already parts of fantasies, if he were to run an intense training course on how to develop an unnecessarily large crush on Derek Hale then this would be a part of it. Obviously it might not be the same as Derek fondling with intent, but a scrub and clean was better than no touch at all. Besides, shower scenes were such a cliché there had to be a reason.

Stiles even had fantasies of Derek standing behind him, pushing himself against Stiles’ ass, pushing his way under Stiles’ trousers and jerking him off with one of his arms gripping Stiles against him. Stiles would be allowed to move away and fine, the ending of the fantasy might not be the same and the middle might be strange too, but if Derek was helping him piss he’s not going to do it stood in front of him. Pushing his hands down his pants may be just him pulling his dick out and pointing it at the toilet… Okay, so fine they were nothing alike, everything would be innocent if a little personal, but Derek didn’t understand personal space anyway so that would be nothing new.

Stiles was completely fucked.

-

_He wished._

-

For the first two hours Stiles was totally cool with this situation. Derek was being unusually nice. He’d offered him, a million different drinks (he even had hot chocolate, it wasn’t even near night time!) and he asked how hungry he was nearly forty times. Given that normally Stiles was treated worse than a prisoner of war (he’s allowed to exaggerate) there was a certain novelty to the idea. The only thing that Stiles wasn’t enjoying was the fact that he couldn’t easily rest his head on his arm. His arms jammed in one position like a thirties or forties sci-fi robot.

Stiles didn’t exactly have a large bladder, he’d never understood those people who would drink water all day and use the toilet once every twenty hours or so and well he wasn’t sure what he was meant to say to Derek, (‘I need a wee, lol?’). So for the first half an hour or so he sat, fidgeted and didn’t say anything. He did spend most of the time kicking himself for drinking all of that water to get his throat feeling less like sand paper.

Stiles was kinda’ proud of how long he’d managed to hold it in before he realised that he would have to bite the bullet eventually. “Derek, I need the toilet.”

Derek looked at him for a moment, “Uh… Do you want me to get your trousers off and leave you to it?”

Stiles considered for a moment, how the hell did he not think of that? He could fucking go sat down, sure Derek would still be helping him with the trousers, but it wouldn’t be some really bad porn cliché (he’d never watched someone helping someone use the toilet, but it felt like something that would exist). Stiles shrugged and then quickly winced in pain at trying to move his arms. Derek pulled his trousers down, and left Stiles to it. Stiles may have found the fact that Derek’s hands moved strangely close to his butta strangely intense experience, but his bladder was too full for Stiles to be able to process it and he ran through to the toilet.

The seat was down, which was a little odd, but Stiles wasn’t going to question Derek’s preparedness for this and he sat, letting nature take care of the rest. So fine, maybe this whole situation wasn’t going to be so weird after all. Stiles felt that maybe the panicking had been slightly justified, Derek was almost certainly going to see his penis at some point and that would be embarrassing, but at least there wouldn’t be need for a hands-on approach every time he needed the john, and Derek wouldn’t be shaking it for him or anything.

Stiles went back through to the living room and asked Derek to pull his trousers up. Derek’s eyes may have jumped to his junk and _yes_ it was as embarrassing as Stiles expected it to be. Derek stood up moved closer to Stiles and slid up his underwear quickly, trying to avoid looking down. His hands were clumsy and not fantastic at doing the buttons, but once they were done he looked up to Stiles and gave a strange goofy smile.

“Woah.” Stiles said. “You look super proud of yourself there. Like, do I need to get stickers out for your ability to dress another human? I don’t think I’d be able to give you them now, but once my arms are back then I am totally getting them out and you’ll be able to pick one.”

Derek grumbled and moved back to his side of the sofa. He may have put an episode of The Twilight Zone _just_ to piss off Stiles (it didn’t have sufficient ‘edginess’ as everyone claimed, whatever that meant). Stiles of course took this as an opportunity to talk. Derek didn’t listen; he nodded in agreement whenever Stiles seemed to pause for affirmation, but otherwise left him to talk.

“I just don’t get why the only people that seem to be into me are people trying to kill me.”

Derek’s ears twitched and he turned to look at Stiles.

“Like, Danny starts hitting on me then _bam_ three months later he tries to feed me to another evil boyfriend. Then the Succubus, she wanted to eat me. Oh then there was that witch, she said that my virginity was a channel to heaven. Like, if you didn’t kill everyone I wouldn’t be a virgin, I’d be dead, but my virginity isn’t exactly going anywhere.”

Derek stared at him, he was meant to say _something_.

“I know! You don’t intend to be a cock-block, but it’s starting to get on my nerves, like do I stop you from getting laid?”

Derek’s eyes fixed on Stiles and didn’t move.

“Stop looking at me like that. I know, it’s laughable that the supernatural seem to want a piece of me, but they do. Do I have supernatural pheromones or something? Do I have virgin tattooed on my head.”

There was silence.

“Oh great, I smell like a supernatural whore and a virgin, brilliant.”

“You smell like a weeping willow.” Derek said.

“That’s, uh. A tree? I mean, obviously it’s a tree, what I meant is…” Stiles narrowed his eyes for a moment and opened his mouth. “Is that a good smell to have?”

“It’s nice, yeah. It suits you.” Derek turned back to the TV. He felt his heart rate rise and he could hear Stiles’ do the same.

Derek just couldn’t keep his big mouth shut, could he? _‘It suits you’_ , he mimicked himself sarcastically. He could almost hear Stiles silent laughter at the compliment. Derek had thought that he’d be able to behave himself, but _no_ he of course had to stick his foot in his mouth. Derek glanced to his side and saw Stiles smiling absentmindedly at the television. He sighed and leant back into the sofa and mentally added it to the list of creepy things that Stiles had forgiven him for. Stiles knew what scent meant to wolves, Derek mentally noted to avoid telling Stiles what he smelt like again.

-

The next day they realised that Stiles couldn’t wipe his own bottom. It wasn’t the most awkward thing it the world, but it wasn’t the most natural exchange in the world.

Derek was glad that Stiles didn’t make any jokes.

Stiles was happy he didn’t have diarrhoea.

-

“Derek, I think I need to wash at some point this week and well, frankly I feel a little grimy already. I don’t even think I showered the day of the crash and given that was a week ago. Would you mind if you gave me a hand?”

Derek nodded, “When?”

“After dinner?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Stiles smiled, humming to himself. Derek couldn’t figure out what the tune was, but he was almost certain that it was from the title credits of some TV show. Time seemed to pass quickly the rest of the day, they’d fallen into a routine where Stiles would shout at him for not watching a certain film before and then he’d carry on complaining until Derek eventually gave in to the incessant whining. Every so often Stiles would ask for a bit of his drink, he’d ask Derek to scratch his back or his neck, or he’d ask for a bit of help with his trousers so he could head to the loo.

It was a chill way for Derek to spend his afternoons (Stiles refused to get up in the morning) and he didn’t mind staying up later anyway. Derek missed going for runs and the exercise, but given Stiles’ tendency to talk he was as tired by the end of the day anyway.

After Derek had fed Stiles there was an unusual silence as Derek fed himself. Derek could smell how nervous Stiles was, as though he had reason to be nervous. Yeah, it wouldn’t be ideal for Stiles having Derek wash him, but surely Stiles would know that Derek wouldn’t take advantage of him in his situation. He’d try and avoid looking at his body if that’d make Stiles feel more comfortable, if he didn’t really look at Stiles while this was going on maybe Stiles would feel better about the whole thing.

Derek decided that would be best and he carried on eating his food. He could smell Stiles’ nerves creeping in as he got closer to the end of the meal. By the time he put his knife and fork down the whole room reeked of Stiles’ worry.

“Is there any order you want me to wash you in?” Derek asked.

“Uh, can we do my hair first?”

Derek nodded and gestured through to the bathroom. He had to admit this was one of the strangest things he’d ever done, but after they’d manage to get Stiles into position with his head over the bath the rest came fairly naturally. It wasn’t exactly a normal activity, but Derek remembered having sisters who used to do this all the time, manage to only wash their hair with the rest of their body staying dry. It didn’t go too badly for a first attempt. Water went further than one might expect, but Stiles didn’t smell so scared by the whole thing, and that was a good start. After that was done Derek unbuttoned Stiles’ shirt (broken arms made the t-shirts impossible to put on, they’d tried and failed).

Stiles watched Derek undo the shirt. Derek was almost relieved that Stiles was keeping an eye on him. It meant that he wouldn’t have the same temptation to stare at the water drops as they run across his chest. _Fine_ , so the temptation was still there, he just wouldn’t be able to get away with it.

Derek moved towards the sink and ran some hot water and placed the washcloth inside it. He added a small amount of soap in the bowl and rubbed it against the cloth. He glanced over his shoulder back to Stiles.

Stiles was breathing quite deeply. “I, uh. I think we’ll need to take my pants off before we start with this otherwise won’t the water get my clothes wet?”

Derek nodded, “We can put a towel around you to protect your modesty if you want?”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief and nodded. The towel was tightened to grip closely around his waist. His trousers and underwear were removed quickly. Derek told Stiles to lift his arms so as to wash his front and armpits. Seemingly instantly, a damp cloth hit his chest, he was a little surprised by how gently the cloth ran across his skin. Derek’s eyes occasionally glanced at Stiles’ body as he guided the cloth around his torso, but they would quickly avert themselves and look back to Stiles’ face.

He moved to freshen the washcloth and the whole thing began again with Derek’s eyes pointing to the distance as the cloth slid across Stiles’ skin. Stiles felt the cloth brush across his nipple and he bit his lip trying to avoid letting out a gasp. Derek rubbing the cloth across his other nipple was something that Stiles had not been prepared for. He closed his eyes and tried to think of unsexy things and try to remind himself that this was _not_ the effect that Derek was intending, the result of this should be unsexy cleanliness. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at him topless, it wasn’t on the cards.

Stiles heard the cloth being freshened as the sound of water splashing filled his ears. Stiles opened his eyes and Derek turned him around, this way round Stiles’ eyes wandered around the bathroom and he nearly stumbled when Derek pressed the moist cloth against his back. It seemed much firmer than the brushing of the cloth across his chest. Stiles tried to remind himself that this wasn’t anything weird, but he lost his train of thought when the towel around his waist was removed.

“Do you want me to wash you everywhere?” Derek asked as the cloth ran up the back of his leg.

Stiles knew the implication of such question. Derek had smelt that he was becoming aroused. Stiles blushed and he took a few deep breaths as Derek washed his bottom. “No. I think I’m good, thanks.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I know it doesn’t mean anything.” Derek said.

“I just… I’ve never been washed by someone else before.” Stiles didn’t think the excuse sounded that bad, but by the time it had left his lips he realised how stupid it sounded. “At least not since I was like a four or five year old and that was my mother so that was completely different.”

“I can imagine that would be slightly less arousing.” Derek muttered and the room’s smell shifted from Stiles’ arousal to the scent of pure amusement.

Derek washed the front of his legs and the mood had completely gone. Derek grabbed the towel from the floor and dried Stiles quickly. He ran through to Stiles’ bedroom and grabbed him his pyjamas and pulled them onto Stiles.

The rest of the night passed with a bog standard pattern, with Stiles talking through movies he insisted on watching and Derek brooding. Or at least that’s what Stiles accused him of. What Derek actually was doing was trying _not_ to brood. He was trying not to think about the fact that he gave Stiles an erection, he tried not to think about how he asked Stiles if he wanted him to wash downtown, and most importantly he tried to avoid all thoughts about how Stiles was being so forgiving of his inability to be professional about this whole situation.

Derek’s phone vibrated angrily, it was Sheriff Stilinski asking if they wanted to come around for dinner tomorrow.

“Stiles. Your Dad wonders if we want to go to dinner tomorrow?”

“Oh shit!” Stiles sighed. “You do realise this is going to be the official ‘meeting the parents’ ordeal, right?”

“I’ve already met your dad. Several times.” Derek narrowed his eyebrows.

“We’re meant to be in a relationship, remember?” Stiles paused and let out a deep sigh. “I think you’ve got to get us out of it.”

“Stiles, we’ve got to see him at some point, it’s not like he’s going to be comfortable with you staying here all the time if you never get to see him.” Derek smiled.

“He’ll never believe us. I mean, just look at us.” Stiles vaguely gestured between them.

Derek nearly let out a growl but he simple took a moment to compose himself. Stiles wasn’t trying to be hurtful, it was true, the age difference was probably enough for most people to doubt it, but the truth was that Stiles was too clever for him, he was meant to be with some hot-shot lawyer, a doctor, some kind of CEO, something professional,

Derek broke the silence with a quiet, “It’s not that unbelievable.”

Stiles nodded and smiled, “That’s the spirit.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “Aren’t you arguing against me meeting your Dad?”

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind. It’ll be fine,” Stiles said. “We’ll need some ground rules, firstly, you need to stop looking like it’s a chore to be in my presence, like you’ll have to sit near me instead of on the opposite side of the sofa. Secondly, laugh at my jokes. Finally, _don’t_ engage in precise conversations, if my Dad realises we barely know anything about each other then we’re dead.”

Derek nodded. “Only if you promise not to make any werewolf jokes, he’s still not allowed to know.”

“Fine.” Stiles’ grin went from ear to ear and he turned back to the TV to watch the rest of an episode of ‘Barbie’s Dream House’.

“I still don’t understand why we’re watching this.” Derek muttered.

“Because there’s an _evil closet_ , it’s like some giant metaphor for consumerist culture.”

“No, it’s a show about Barbie and you feel like you’ve got to justify your enjoyment of it by projecting complex ideas onto a show with far more self-aware humour than necessary, while still pushing the brand onto young children.”

Stiles stared at Derek for a moment. “Oh sweetums, I love it when you talk nerdy about Barbie.”

“I… Sweetums?”

“Fine, I’ll save those nicknames for tomorrow, but just so you know I’m still trying to pick between that, Der-Bear, Sourwolf and Monster Cock. Not entirely sure how my dad will feel about the last one.”

Derek grumbled and tried to ignore the tirade of explanations that Stiles felt was necessary to share. The pros and cons of each nickname were wide and varied. It was amazing that when compared to Stiles’ ongoing speech, ‘Barbie’s Dream House’ was a big hit (okay and maybe a twenty-something shouldn’t enjoy it, but the closet with an ‘evil’ switch was a little bit funny).

-

Derek was nervous. He’s a big enough man to admit that he gets nervous. The only problem is that Stiles finds that hilarious.

“ _Stiles_.” Derek grumbles again. “I just want to know if this shirt is too formal or not, should I wear something more casual?”

Stiles smirked. “No, no, it’s fine. My dad will love the fact you’ve made an effort. I can’t believe you actually know how to iron clothes.” He looked at his own slightly creased shirt. “Though, you did miss a bit here.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “Maybe if you hadn’t been dancing around while I tried to dress you then you’d be wearing a well ironed shirt instead of one that looks like it has literally been pulled out of a bag. If your father thinks I’ve been neglecting you then -”

“I’ve already told you that my Dad won’t mind that, he’ll be impressed that I’m even dressed.”

“I don’t want to give him any ammunition.”

“For his loaded gun waiting on the table?”

Derek shook his head and grabbed the car keys. “I want to make a good impression, I haven’t had a fake boyfriend before.”

-

Derek doesn’t _exactly_ know what to do when the Sheriff opened the door and ignored them walking through to the dining room immediately. He wasn’t sure whether, but given that Stiles had done he figured it was the right move. There were three places waiting, they were arranged at the head ad two side seats on each side. Stiles walked straight to the table and waited for Derek to pull out the chair. Derek wasn’t exactly sure where he was meant to sit, as sitting at the head would be rude and sitting opposite Stiles meant that he couldn’t feed stiles. He moved the place mat from the head of the table to the seat next to Stiles.

The small talk was decent to begin with, Stiles asked a million of inappropriate and probing questions into the jewellery theft on Brook Street, the Sheriff asked how they’d been finding living together and that conversation went off seemingly without a hitch, after that conversation took a turn for all the small and bizarre things in life (the Stilinski boys knew how to make small talk).

The Sheriff had ‘baked’ a pie, though the truth was that The Sheriff had bought a pie last minute, had failed to hide the packaging and had thrown it in the oven. It was quite amusing for Derek to watch the charade played out between Stiles and The Sheriff, the lies falling out of both of their mouths with such ease. It wasn’t until The Sheriff had seemingly reached the end of his effort and pie making knowledge that Stiles said he could see the package and the conversation came to a close.

“Derek, do you want a beer?” He asked pushing himself up and walking towards the fridge.

“Yes please, Sir?” Derek said.

“Sir?!” Stiles laughed. “Suck up.”

“Maybe you should try learning some manners from this guy, son.” The Sheriff smiled and pushed a beer towards Derek.

 Derek thanked the Sheriff before adding, “I think that’s a lost cause.”

“Tell me about it.” The Sheriff nodded.

“Hey!” Stiles said, “There’s no way that you should be ganging up on me. I’m unwell.”

“He likes to think he’d the centre of the world.” Derek added. “Isn’t that right, sweetums?”

The Sheriff sat back in his seat, “So tell me Derek, why should I let you carry on dating my son?”

Derek’s smirk fell off his face and he leant back. He looked over to Stiles, staring at him. He didn’t know what he should say, Stiles said to be vague, but vague here is very subjective. He should probably push towards something final, that won’t be questioned further, heck, he didn’t even know why should Stiles date him?

“I don’t know.” Derek paused for a moment. “But when I’m with him, he makes me the happiest man alive.”

“He’s pretty special, isn’t he?” The Sheriff agreed, “Which baseball team do you follow?”

Fifteen minutes of baseball talk later (Stiles hated it when people talked baseball, not because he hated the sport, but because he didn’t feel the need to analyse the squad choices, the tactics nor the chances different teams had of winning the world series [which was a stupid name by the way, it’s only America]) and (thankfully) the alarm for the pie went off. The Sheriff jumped up and went to get the pie from the oven. He cut the pie in three unnecessarily large slices and served them. Derek had been expecting at least some vegetables with his slice, but apparently a full meal in the Stilinski house was a slice of pie.

Derek fed Stiles on instinct as they all talked. Every so often when Stiles started (or was no way near the end of) a long rant, Derek managed to get a few bites of food to himself, but for the most part Stiles was eating surprisingly quickly allowing Derek and the Sheriff to talk about current affairs (who knew that Derek read a newspaper every morning?).

“Stiles was telling me that you don’t work because of your inheritance. Are you sure that’s a good idea? It must be quite isolating?”

“Well it’s not entirely true I don’t work.”

Stiles snorted to his right as he carried on chewing his food.

“I work as an investment consultant for a few families in New York, I suppose it’s technically a financial advisor, but it’s something that I used family contact to get and well I don’t really have any qualifications. The pay is great and the hours are short, I work a couple of hours a morning. I also volunteer at Beacon Vale two afternoons a week and help at the orphanage, but obviously I’m not doing that at the moment.”

The Sheriff smiled at Stiles and looks back to Derek, “Only Stiles could find someone like you.”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah, sometimes I struggle to believe these things myself.” He gave Derek a sharp glare and took another mouthful of food.

The rest of the dinner past without anything of real note, the interrogation carried on, of course, but it was calmer it covered everything (including Kate, which Stiles did not expect his father to push the matter on). It wasn’t until Stiles and Derek went upstairs to grab some more clothes for at home that the conversation ended.

“Why are you angry with me, Stiles?” Derek asked immediately after he shut the door.

“What’s with all those lies, Derek?”

“I don’t understand?”

“Oh I don’t know? The fact you’re an investment banker, or your plans to renovate the Hale House so you have somewhere to raise kids, or your fucking building an orphanage? It’s like you took all these clichés about what I want and turned it into some kind of character.”

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, “I still don’t understand your problem.”

“My dad will find out about all of those lies with a few quick searches on google and then he’s going to flip and it’s going to be horrific and I’m going to end up moving back home. It’s just, I thought we agreed to keep everything vague? And how the hell did you know about the time I puked on a girl in Grade Seven?”

“Stiles.” Derek paused. “Those things are all true.”

“What? That still doesn’t alter the fact that I barely know anything about you. How stupid does that make this relationship look if you know things only intense stalkers would know and I know nothing?”

“Are you complaining that you don’t ask me questions about my life?” Derek sighed. “Look, I know about your third wheel falling off your tricycle, your disturbing love of French pornography – and that it’s only the gay French porn you like, you prefer Asian het porn – I know that you search the personal ads and consider sending in applications, that you signed up to online dating and stopped after a day because someone sent you a rude message. I know these things because _you_ tell me these things. If you don’t want me to know then don’t tell me.

“I didn’t really think you listened.” Stiles' eyes narrowed a little.

“My point was, that I didn’t lie.”

“So, does that mean that I make you the happiest man alive?” Stiles quirked his eyebrow.

Derek’s gut churned. He hated when Stiles did these things to goad him, demonstrate that he’s got this power over Derek that he can’t do anything about. He didn’t respond of course, you can’t to things like that. He walked over to Stiles’ wardrobe, and started pulling out any of the extra clothes that might fit over the cast, he’d mostly been wearing some of Derek’s shirts (his Dad brought around t-shirts that didn’t fit.

-

The next week and a half passed in a blur. Derek was great at looking after Stiles actually. It wasn’t without weirdness, Stiles got that Derek found Stiles being naked and slightly aroused a little concerning, but for the most part it was pretty chill, just two dudes living together. Stiles didn’t mind being fed or dressed, those were things that were pretty normal now, but the thing that was starting to grind his gears was the fact that he was _constantly_ horny.

He’s not saying that it’s starting to affect his judgement, but last night he may have tried to hump his bed to get off. It’s not something he’d done before and given how disappointing it actually was (it didn’t work) he couldn’t see himself doing it again. He was getting desperate and frankly with Derek being so annoyingly nice to him that really didn’t help his situation.

Derek set up Skype for him to talk to Scott and even he didn’t have any advice, beyond “get over it”. Stiles had already tried that, they tried to talk about Derek, but there wasn’t much that they could say given they knew Derek could hear every word that the two of them were speaking. Stiles simply told Scott that Derek was being great and the situation was _surprisingly domestic_.

Scott went into long and detailed discussions about all of the werewolves that he’d met (all of them were betas so they found Scott’s presence reassuring). Stiles sort of phased out and nodded along, by the time Scott had finished his explanation of the possible alliance he’d developed between him and some pack in Washington State, Stiles’ mind had wandered back.

“I just really need to jerk off. What if I have a wet dream, Derek will have to clean up and that would be mortifying.”

“What about that guy who you said gave you his number?”

“He’s like fifty and Derek would have to send that text”

“And your next option is Derek. Is that much better? He’d probably pull your dick off in a rage and then look confused when it doesn’t regrow.” Scott smirked.

“I am not made for this. I’ve got another four weeks of this.” Stiles groaned.

“Hey, how about when I get back we try and go and get you pulled at that bar, The Creamy Banana?”

“You get back _after_ my cast is off. I am not waiting four weeks for a wank.”

Stiles quickly made an excuse about having to get going. He was not going back to The Creamy Banana, last time they went there were only guys old enough to be his father and they all hit on Scott instead of him. The only person who gave Stiles any attention was the barman and that was only because he wanted drinks. It hadn’t been completely soul destroying trip though; Stiles had managed to get propositioned by a rent boy. The thing he learnt from the experience was that he’d just be one of those guys who struggled to find love or hook-ups, he’d acknowledged that now and there was no way he was going back to hook-up central.

Stiles walked back into the living room and sat next to Derek. He didn’t know what came over him, usually they sat at opposite sides of the sofa, but he wanted to sit near to someone, he’d not been touched in any meaningful way in months. Maybe he was going insane. Derek would probably send him away. Derek turned to stare at Stiles and said nothing.

That evening they couldn’t be bothered cooking so they ordered takeout pizza. Stiles insisted that they eat a piece at a time because if he’s getting a hot pizza then Derek should be getting one too. Derek didn’t argue, the strange thing about the pizza was the fact it had been cut into eleven pieces. They both stared at the last piece for a moment, then to each other. Derek expected an argument over it, but it didn’t come.

Derek became very aware of the fact that they were sat next to each other. Their faces were only a foot or so apart. Stiles smelt like fresh rain. Stiles told Derek that he should have the last piece. Derek mumbled something, Stiles didn’t know what. Derek started eating as he tried to ignore the fact that Stiles was watching him eat and concentrate on the episode of Star Trek Voyager, that Stiles had told him was a _much watch_. When he’d finished approximately half the piece he asked if Stiles wanted the rest (“Hell Yeah!”) and they turned back to watch the tv.

After food Stiles always felt a little sleepy and he may have very accidentally fallen asleep with his head on Derek’s shoulder. He may have woken up to find an arm around him and the sound of Derek snoring through the looping menu music of the DVD, Stiles started to move, but Derek’s arm gripped more tightly. Stiles knew that it didn’t mean much, it was a comfort thing, Stiles would have given Derek a dead arm if he’d not wrapped the arm around, but it was reassuring, close, but most importantly it just felt _pleasant_.

-

Stiles woke up the next day lying in his bed, in his pyjamas instead of his normal clothes. He could hear Derek in the kitchen. Stiles turned his body round and stood up. He walked through to the kitchen and saw Derek and his father in the kitchen together, just chatting.

“Woah.” Stiles mumbled, “What are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to see my son?” The Sheriff asked.

“Your Dad was _just_ in the neighbourhood looking at a car crash and he decided to come round.”

“Derek gave me a tour. I was a little surprised that you aren’t sleeping in the same bed. It’s very traditional of you.”

“He’s a no sex before marriage guy.” Stiles quipped.

The Sheriff looked bemused and Derek looked mortified. It appeared that nobody knew what to say in response to that. Derek decided it would be best not to say anything.

“I didn’t take you for a religious guy.” The Sheriff eventually managed.

“I’m not. I don’t want Stiles to rush into anything he might later regret.”

“You mean like getting married before he’s twenty?”

Derek scowled, “Exactly like that.”

“Well, I’ll let you boys have your breakfast.” He glanced at his watch, “Lunch? And I’ll see you soon.”

They both muttered goodbyes to Stiles’ Dad and after he was out of the door Stiles laughed loudly.

“I think he thinks we’re serious.”

Derek glowered at Stiles before turning back to the frying pan. “I think we need to tell him that this isn’t actually happening. He’ll only worry that you’ll get married for the wrong reasons.”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah, you’re probably right. We can break up at the end of the summer. It can be a big public break-up with shouting and…” Derek turned back to look at Stiles smirking away. “Okay, fine we’ll do a normal break-up, we’ll say that you realised that I’m not good enough for you and have decided to leave to go to South America to build orphanages.”

“How about I propose to you and you panic and said you can’t do that.”

Stiles caught a whiff of the eggs and lost track of his thoughts, “If you made eggs like this every morning then I would be saying yes to eternity.”

“Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.” Derek mumbled.

Stiles didn’t hear and let his train of thought wander. His thoughts didn’t manage to get particularly far, he only managed to get as far as the image of Derek pushing him down on the bed after a wedding. He’d be wearing a top hat and a tailcoat, he’d be quintessentially posh, and he’d be pulling off Stiles tux (white, he’s the virgin, obviously), and a plate of food landed in front of him.

“Stop thinking about sex, you reek of horniness.” Derek said as he moved closer to him. He pulled Stiles chair around and started cutting up his food.

“You try going _eighteen days_ without having any alone time.” Stiles muttered as he took the first mouthful.

“I lived in a houseful of wolves. Thinking about sex got everyone’s attention.”

“Urgh. That must have been really creepy. I bet you still jerked off though.”

Derek shrugged and pushed another mouthful of food in to Stiles’ mouth. He let out a moan of appreciation at the first mouthful of the eggs. Derek was about to make a joke, but he’d been mesmerised by Stiles’ tongue running around his lips to catch a small amount of egg at the side of his mouth. Derek tried to ignore how aroused Stiles smelt, but it was infectious, he smelt like desire and he was in reach...

Derek shook his head and tried to concentrate on feeding Stiles. It was a surprisingly difficult task, he couldn’t _not_ look at Stiles’ lips, if he looked away he’d stab Stiles with the fork (that was something he learned on the first day). After Stiles had finished his food Derek started eating his own. He was only a few mouthfuls in when he had to stop.

“Stiles!”

“I can’t help it. I’m ready to explode.”

“Then go to your bedroom and let me eat in peace.”

Stiles stood up and walked towards his bedroom with haste. The smell still lingered, Derek could barely eat with the scent surrounding him, it was such a distracting smell. Derek put his fork down and walked through to the bedroom. Derek said to Stiles’ Dad that he’d do anything that Stiles needed… Okay, so fine, he just wanted to, but Stiles was desperate and this was Derek’s only chance, maybe once they’d done it he’d be able to forget about Stiles and he pushed open the bedroom door.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do what?”

“I’ll jerk you off.”


	2. A History

Stiles was going to explode, this _was not happening_. There was silence. Okay, so Stiles wasn’t going to say no, this was every single one of his fantasies rolled into one. _Derek Hale willingly offering to have sex with him._ Okay, so maybe he wasn’t offering to have sex, but this was as good as. Stiles didn’t know what to say. The silence had gone on a bit too long now, he had to say _something_.

Fuck, why couldn’t he open his mouth?  The one time he wanted to be screaming yes and he was stuck in position. Stiles had to say something, but his mind was completely dead and he was literally stuck. His throat started to clamp up, oh fucking _great_. Not a hand job, a panic attack. Well done, Stiles! Top marks for ruining your own chance of ever getting laid. He felt a hand brush against his fingers.

“Come on, Stiles. Take some deep breaths. Shit, what did you tell me your breathing exercises were? I can’t remember them. We count to four, five and then the same out?” Derek shut up. He realised there was no way that he was helping (Stiles’ death glare kind of helped speed up the epiphany). Derek’s hand was wrapped around Stiles’, kind of (well it was wrapped around his cast, good as) and he just needed to focus on his breathing, try not to think about this.

Stiles’ focus began to reappear. He needed to calm down and try to relax a little. He had been a little on edge for a few days and Derek’s proposition didn’t mean it was the end of the world. He just needed to reconsider the situation and calm down. So the answer is yes, but he has to play this whole thing tactically and sound calm and considered.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep, it’s just you smell so...” Derek stopped and sighed, “You know what, forget I ever asked.”

“No!” Stiles shouted. So that probably didn’t come across calm and considered, so extra focus on the tactical. “We need to set ground rules, right?”

Derek shrugged, “How many rules can we actually need?”

“Just it doesn’t mean anything, right?” Stiles didn’t know why he was asking it wasn’t like Derek was going to turn around and declare his love for him. He’d just offered him a hand job there was no reason to give Derek an opportunity to back out. It was more to remind himself that he shouldn’t leave it to represent something.

“No.” Derek responded. Stiles wanted to make sure that he wasn’t leading Derek on, that’s fair enough. Stiles was too concerned sometimes, Derek knew Stiles wasn’t going to let this go anywhere, “I’m just offering a friend a helping hand.”

Stiles laughed, “Oh boy, can we get out a camera so you can say that again, that pun was _dreadful._ I reckon that you’d be the next poster for in denial homosexuality.

Derek furrowed his brow, “I don’t understand the joke.”

“Well… it’s like when you have people saying that it wasn’t gay ‘ _because’._ Like, ‘it wasn’t gay because my friend had both arms broken, I’m a werewolf, I turned all grumpy because my house was smelt like horny teenager so I just offered him a helping hand.’” Stiles’ impression of Derek was dreadful; the only realistic part of it was how he puffed out his chest a little to try and look more muscular. “You know, these sorts of jokes are generally funnier if you don’t live under a rock, surely when you were at school you heard guys ‘no homo’ing away their whole life?”

“No homo?” Derek asked, Stiles let out an exasperated sigh and opened his mouth, but Derek shushed him. “You don’t need to talk through nerves. We don’t have to do it right away. I can put on some porn or something?”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t think I need any, I’ve never done this before so… I don’t really know what to do? I’m happy to start whenever, if you’d rather we throw on some porn then we can do, but…”

Derek’s hand moved towards Stiles’ waistband and Stiles stopped speaking. Derek pulled the pyjamas down gently, pulling the elastic waist as far out as possible with only a few tugs. Stiles was staring at him intensely. Derek tried not to look too fascinated by Stiles’ dick, this was a business deal, he just had to keep it seeming normal. Derek asked if Stiles would rather kneel on the bed and Stiles shrugged. In hindsight it seemed like a stupid idea, Stiles hadn’t done anything like this before, he wouldn’t know his preferences any better than Derek would. Derek reached downwards and found Stiles already hard.

Derek’s finger brushed along the length of his dick and Stiles let out a heavy gasp of air. Stiles looked down to see Derek’s fingers running across his head before gently gliding along his shaft again. Almost no pressure was applied. Stiles didn’t take much to feel like he could come quickly and this was before Derek’s hand had even done anything worth any note (The male body isn’t _designed_ for marathon sex), but he didn’t want his first time to go too quickly. This was a once in a lifetime experience and okay it wasn’t going to be full of romance, but…

Stiles let out a gasp as Derek’s thumb and first finger gripped lightly on his head. “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t have any lube.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say, was he meant to say anything? Derek fingers gripped and gently pulled all the way down his shaft, his foreskin retracting slowly. He wished he could enjoy this more, but all he was thinking about was how close he was and it had only just begun. Derek seemed to be revelling in the control that he had over Stiles. He was jerking him at a glacial pace, every time Stiles even so much as bucked his hips a centimetre his hand disappeared and left the cool air to replace it. Stiles was _so_ not built for such teasing.

Derek pulled away and walked around Stiles to stand behind him, his head was resting on Stiles’ shoulder. One arm was still slowly jerking him off and the other was sat on Stiles’ hips, the fingers gripping whenever Stiles tried to move. Stiles realised that he’d barely remembered to breathe and took a heavy, broken breath as Derek ran his finger along Stiles’ head again. Stiles threw his head back and closed his eyes. He could feel Derek’s breath against his ear. He wished that Derek would break the silence.

With his eyes closed his mind started to fill the sensory gap.

“I never knew you could be so quiet, Stiles.” Derek might whisper. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

But there was nothing of the sort, Stiles imagined Derek was naked behind him, pushed against him tightly, pushing his erection against his back. Stiles bucked his hips a few times, but Derek’s hand gripped tightly on his hip and pulled him to a stop. Stiles imagined Derek telling him how good he is, how he’d let him come soon, if he did exactly what Derek wanted.

Stiles opened his eyes again when he felt Derek’s hand disappear from his waist. The hand reappeared a moment later cupping his balls. There was a firm squeeze on them and Stiles exhaled as far as his lungs would allow him. Derek’s pace increased only a fraction. Every so often Derek’s pace would increase ever so slightly, not close enough to move Stiles to orgasm, but still enough that Stiles could notice a difference. Derek still seemed calm and measured, making sure to slow every time Stiles moved towards orgasm.

Stiles couldn’t help but imagine how things would be if Derek was doing this as more than a friend, the dirty talking, his hips grinding against him, Derek’s nose pushing into the middle of his neck to sniff him.

The hand around him increased pace almost threefold. The pressure of Derek’s hand hit his corona over and over again, his foreskin rolling back and forth. He had a little pre-come and the only sound in the room he could hear was his own breathing erratic and harsh as he got closer to the edge. Stiles let out a slightly louder moan. Fuck, he was about to come, was he meant to tell Derek?

Too late. His hips start to buck, without the hand on his hip Derek didn’t do anything to stop Stiles. Stiles could feel the grip tighten on his balls as he came. The room was still silent, even after he’d started to come both of Derek’s hands stayed on him, one gently rubbing his balls as the other jerked. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings for almost a minute, but as the haze began to fade he slowly became aware of Derek’s hand still grasped around him, milking every last drop as though he depended on it.

“That was awesome.” Stiles sounded chirpier already. He looked at the laminate, “Uh, I’m sorry about the mess, I have tissues in my room normally to prevent…”

Derek let go of him immediately. “I’ll get something to clear up.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say, his balls felt cool in the air, stood where Derek left him. Derek returned with a full tissue roll and quickly mopped up the floor with them. He disappeared again, presumably to discard them and returned after a long minute.

“Do you have any preference for clothes today?” Derek asked as he knelt on the floor and started

Stiles shook his head and watched as Derek went to his drawers and pull out a pair of underwear. It was only a few minutes after his first ever sexual encounter and it was almost as if it had never even happened. Stiles felt stupid, he couldn’t say that he felt used, he’d agreed and Derek had said that it didn’t mean anything, but this was taking the ‘doesn’t mean anything’ to an extreme. Sure, it isn’t as though he expected Derek to cuddle or anything, but he’d expected it to feel different between them.

He expected to feel a little different himself to be honest, he expected that after his first sexual encounter he’d feel… older? He didn’t know, it sounded stupid in hindsight, the idea that some rite of passage would make him feel any different. He felt the same though, except he also felt like he’d just had an orgasm, so go figure that one.

Derek smiled at him as he suggested the palest pair of jeans with his “Mutually Assured Destruction” boxer shorts and one of his boring plain shirts. Stiles didn’t have any reason to oppose so he nodded and it wasn’t very long before he was dressed and Derek left him to sit on the bed.

So fine, Derek jerked him off, but that doesn’t have to mean anything _weird_ , does it? The fact is that Stiles was a full grown man and he can be perfectly civil with a guy whose hands were basically giving him the best wank he’d ever had. The fact that he wants to be _more_ than civil is the problem. This was something that was going to be a problem from the start, he knew this: the only difference is that Derek just so happened to help take the edge off his horniness, if anything he should be glad. For at least the next day or two he should at least feel unaroused and just a little less angry with the world. That’s the power of a good sexual release and he should enjoy that more and worry less. Because this was what he needed. Derek knew that and he sorted it for him. It’s like feeding him or dressing him or bathing him. It’s just one more way that Derek is looking after him.

-

It managed to stop Stiles from being aroused for three hours. Which was way less than Derek had expected, but way more than Stiles had expected. He’d be back to action within an hour, but he had to give Derek credit where it’s due, that wasn’t _exactly_ a normal encounter and that was a pretty amazing masturbation session. Stiles liked to rush things, he didn’t have anywhere near enough self-control to stop himself when he was near the edge.

Stiles wasn’t sure of the situation any more, well he _still_ wasn’t sure. When he’s at home he’d jerk off twice a day _minimum_ , but obviously it wasn’t as if he could do that here, Derek had zero sex drive (an _anti-drive_ ), Stiles had seen his internet history and there was nothing there even remotely pornographic. Sure, he could have deleted his browser history, but nobody bothered with that once they’re past the age of about fifteen, and especially not when they live on their own. Not that Stiles had looked through Derek’s history for porn, that would be a total invasion of privacy…

Derek glared at Stiles. Stiles hated it when Derek almost penetrated his mind, aware of the tone of what he was thinking. He was glad that Derek wasn’t an exact mind reader. That would have been an awful situation to try and explain his way out of, “I looked because I wanted suggestions but I didn’t want to ask” seemed unlikely to cut it. Maybe Stiles should ask how this was going to work, was he even allowed to ask for another encounter or was it a one-time thing?

“I’m going to cook us some food.”

“If you ever break your arms, you are totally getting something on toast every day.”

“Well, fortunately for me my arms can’t break.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and returned his eyes to the TV. So he couldn’t ask. Maybe it’d happen, Derek would get sick of smelling his horniness and he’d decide that he could cut to the chase. Maybe he thinks he doesn’t need to again until it reaches that level. It is only another month, if Stiles has lasted this long, then maybe in another two weeks he’ll get another, then when his cast gets removed he’s quickly shipped off to the nearest bedroom for some alone time.

Stiles would have to get past the creepiness of constantly wanting a hand job from Derek. Stiles had an idea, maybe if next time Derek wanted to get down to business, Stiles could tag along, it wouldn’t be completely weird, they’d already broken the first barrier of the situation. It’d be like one of those straight guy porn movies, they’d slap on some porn (or not, he’d have to see how receptive Derek would be), it wouldn’t have to be a separate clean-up and it’d be two dudes relaxing together. Derek probably wouldn’t agree; he’d know that Stiles wouldn’t be able to help but watch and the whole encounter would be completely awkward and ruined.

Derek came over with food about ten minutes later. It wasn’t much, it was pasta and a tomato sauce, but given that Stiles wasn’t even aware that Derek could cook before his arms had decided to destroy themselves, he wasn’t going to dismiss it straight off the bat.

It was quite a strange dinner. Usually Stiles just carried on trying to talk through the whole dinner, but here it was Stiles sat in silence as Derek fed him. Derek didn’t really share that much, but tonight was different, he was just telling Stiles about when he used to live in New York, how the only way he could find jobs was by Alphas giving him favour because of his family name (the Hales are kind of aristocrats of the werewolf world, who knew?) and that’s how he got his job as a consultant.

The idea had been to fob him off with a few small jobs to tide him over until he could get a proper job, but when it turned out that Derek wasn’t terrible at all of these things (he had an offer to go to the London School of Economics before the fire), that he was trained up by an Alpha running a hedge fund and the rest, as they say, is history.

It wasn’t a long story, but it was the longest that Stiles had ever heard from Derek, it had at least three distinct characters and he shot off on a few tangents along the way. Stiles didn’t really understand why Derek was telling him, but he listened intently as he chewed his food, he even managed to avoid making any inappropriate jokes when the opportunities arose.

When Stiles had finished his food it seemed to revert back to normal, Derek sat next to him on the sofa in silence, as he wolfed down his food. (“You can’t make the same joke every night, Stiles.”) Stiles isn’t entirely sure how he always managed to have something to talk about, but given that they’d finally found a show that they both like sufficiently (thank god there are seven seasons of Voyager), there was at least no short supply of filler space.

Towards the end of the night Stiles moved himself closer to Derek and rested his head on his shoulder again. He started to feel slightly drowsy. Derek’s scent seemed to do that to him; he smelt homely and wholesome, if that was even a smell that could exist. He really did love Derek. His eyes shot open, he had _not_ intended to think that.

“Stiles. Stop smelling like panic. It’s totally safe here.”

“Derek, what does panic smell like?”

“It smells like milk mixed with sugar.”

“What? That’s not very panicky?”

“Well that’s what it smells like. Nice emotions don’t always smell nice.”

“Oh let me guess, love smells like dog shit mixed with ammonia?”

Derek let out a pensive sigh. “It smells like home, like pack, like fresh rain on the lake.”

Stiles’ eyes began to close again, “That sounds really nice. I wish I could smell it.”

-

Stiles woke up in bed the next day under the covers, he was in his pyjamas inexplicably like the night before (could he really sleep through being changed?). He glanced at the bedside clock and saw that it was only twenty past ten. He closed his eyes and tried to grab some more sleep. It didn’t seem to come very easy so after another half an hour or so. He shimmied the covers off him with his legs and rolled out.

He walked through to the kitchen then the living room, but he didn’t see any signs of Derek. That was pretty unusual for Derek not to be up. He went to the sofa and stared at the blank TV. He hadn’t considered the fact that without Derek around he couldn’t do anything. It was deadly quiet and insanely boring to be in Derek’s loft without any company (there was nothing to do). Stiles wondered if he’d be able to open the door and go exploring, but he figured that was unlikely and even if he did, Derek would be furious.

Stiles sat and thought for a while. He felt pretty calm and relaxed and that was _not_ a normal feeling. He was still bummed about Scott being away, but he was getting used to the idea of Scott existing as his own person and he respected that their relationship in the past had been verging on unhealthy co-dependency (especially after Allison) and as much as he had _suggested_ Scott should go on the trip it didn’t mean Stiles expected Scott to leave him for a whole six weeks.

Stiles looked around the room again. Maybe he could wake Derek up, that wasn’t a completely dreadful idea. Stile was bored and Derek could turn the TV on and then go back to bed. Stiles knew that Derek didn’t appreciate people in his bedroom, but he didn’t have to go in he could shout through and Derek would wake up in a daze because his super hearing would mean it’d be like shouting into his ear, but it’s be better than this boredom.

Stiles stood up and walking towards Derek’s room. He saw the door open and he heard talking. He was sat on his bed, legs crossed with a wireless headset in one ear and he was typing away with the other. Derek was talking like he was _enjoying a fucking conversation_ , the usual pain in continuing a conversation seemed to be completely none existent. Derek looked over to Stiles and held up a finger for a second before returning to typing.

“Mr Grimaldi, I am an independent advisor, any advice I give you can’t hold me financially accountable. You asked me for high risk high reward, you are correct that you have lost money on this investment, but need I remind you that you nearly doubled your investment from a similar suggestion last year. My charge will remain and if I don’t receive my due payment I will be pursuing legal actions through both the Werewolf Alliance and the standard routes.”

Derek turned to Stiles and jumped out of his bed. Derek was only wearing a pair of boxers and a vest top. He walked over to his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of trousers and pulled them on as Stiles stared at him.

“Working in your underwear? You’re living the dream, Hale.”

“Well I would work naked, but I have a lodger at the moment.” Derek winked.

Stiles blushed. “Uh… Naked?”

“So, do you want to get washed up or anything? I can give you a shave if you want?”

Stiles nodded. Shaving was one of the small things Stiles kind of missed being able to do.

-

Stiles wasn’t sure _exactly_ how long he managed to last with Derek’s hands rubbing all over him before feeling like he really needed Derek to reacquaint himself with Stiles’ South Pacific, but he was pretty certain that it was before Derek had even touched his back. Once Derek finished washing him all over (Stiles wasn’t sure whether all of the time on Stiles’ balls had been to get them clean or whether it was Derek teasing him), Stiles may have bit the bullet and asked Derek to give him a quick one.

A minute later and he’d come all over the bathroom floor and he had to make some excuse about not usually going that fast. Derek said he didn’t mind, but that didn’t stop Stiles being completely mortified. The only redeeming feature was the fact that Derek couldn’t tell anyone without admitting to jerking him off in the first place.

Derek dried Stiles up quickly without word and asked Stiles if he wanted to get dressed now or if he didn’t mind waiting until after Derek made another work call. Stiles shrugged and went to sit on the sofa; it was quite nice going au natural. Stiles was faintly grumpy that Derek had decided to slot Stiles into his work schedule, but he knew that Derek wasn’t expecting Stiles to be awake before twelve, so it wasn’t like he had any right to be.

There was a knock at the door. Twenty seconds later Stiles heard Derek run past him. After a few seconds he heard the door close again, Stiles stood up and walked towards the door, they _never_ had visitors.

Stiles walked towards the door, “Derek, who was it?”

Stiles remembered he wasn’t wearing clothes. Shit.

The Sheriff covered his eyes on instinct, “Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Stiles. I guess I’m going to come back later.” He quickly turned around and started fumbling on the door handle before walking away from the loft as fast as humanly possible.

Derek closed the door and saw the mortified look on Stiles’ face. “I reckon we’re well on the way to being forbidden from seeing each other. Now, should I be getting some clothes on you or would you rather be naked all day, I could put you by the window to see if we can scare some old ladies?”

-

Apparently, Derek couldn’t go shopping on his own insisting that Stiles had to tag along in case of some ridiculous Final Destination like chain of events leading to Stiles’ death. Stiles took that as his opportunity to force some of the more liberal definitions of food onto Derek. He’d never even had Poptarts, sure you can live in a hole in the ground, but _every_ American had to have Poptarts at some point in their life. Derek didn’t bother protesting the finer points of Stiles’ arguments (like, what does a food have to do with a country anyway?), but he drew the line at buying more than two flavours.

When they got home Stiles didn’t run straight through to the sofa and instead sat in the kitchen at a barstool and watched Derek as he filled his cupboards full of food. After all if he was living here he should know where the food is ( _even_ if Derek would always be there anyway). Stiles took the opportunity to tell Derek that just because he was raised by wolves doesn’t mean he can ignore all popular culture. Derek refuted the claim that he was out of touch and even mentioned that his mother was a big 80s electronica fan and that was all the popular culture that his family ever felt necessary for him. (His Aunt Irma was also a big Ella Fitzgerald fan – but Stiles dismissed that from being classed as ‘contemporary culture’).

It seemed that the sharing didn’t seem to stop there. The TV didn’t get turned on when they sat on the sofa. They just talked, Stiles didn’t even realise that there were still things that he’d not told Derek, he’d spent the past two and a half weeks talking constantly and he’d not even mentioned his mother.

“… and y’know, one of the last things she told me was to find someone who made me as happy as my dad made her.”

Derek didn’t say anything. He just stared at Stiles.

“I think she knew I was bi.” Stiles muttered, “Like, everyone at that point in my life had told me about meeting women, but my mother had always told me that I could and should marry whoever I wanted, this was before gay marriage was a thing so I was like, ‘you can’t marry boys’, but she insisted that I would be able to marry whoever I wanted. She even suggested one of my favourite book characters as a potential suitor though so I’m not completely sure she expected me to be bi. I don’t think she’d assumed I’d never actually date anyone. I mean, I’m nearly eighteen and I’ve never dated someone, and given that’s kind of the first step on finding someone to be with forever I feel as though I should be on the verge of that.”

Derek shook his head, “I’ve only dated… _her_.”

“At least you’ve had…” Stiles stopped his track. Yeah, that was not a valid comment. “You’re really good looking, anyone would be falling over themselves to have you. You’d be able to find a woman -”

“Man.”

“What?” Stiles almost fell off the sofa (and given he was sat with his back against the cushions that would have been pretty impressive). “What about Kate?”

“I didn’t know then.”

“Well… Uh. Even straight guys would want to be with you. I mean, once you get past the mean alpha exterior, you’re a pretty cool guy.” Stiles stated. “Haven’t you tried meeting someone at The Creamy Banana?”

“I’m not looking for a hook-up.” Derek sighed, “That’s not my thing.”

“Well you need to do something. The only guys you know are me, Scott, Deaton and my Dad. I mean, at least three of those are completely weird for me to consider and that other one would be so much easier if we were just attracted to each other. Given an obvious flaw in that plan… We could put you on online dating?”

There was an awkward silence in the air before Derek forced a gentle laugh, but he knew it sounded laboured, Stiles was right though, if he liked Derek then his life would get a whole lot easier. But you can’t force people to love you. Derek stood up and looked out of the window, the sun was setting.

Stiles guessed that was the end of _that_ conversation.

Stiles didn’t ask Derek to turn the TV. Eventually Derek did and returned to his seat on the sofa, Stiles didn’t even bother waiting to get tired before he rested head into Derek’s shoulder and Stiles might not have been the most astute person in the world, but he’s certain that as he did, Derek took a sniff in. Somewhere along the way Stiles fell asleep. He roused when Derek lifted him to carry him through to bed, but Stiles held on and tried to ignore the strangely sensual feeling of Derek changing him as he was half asleep.

-

He called his dad, Derek told him that as he’d tried to visit yesterday it was an important thing to do (“But I never see my dad when I was at home.”). Stiles figured that he could write it off as drying off after being bathed (technically true), but when it came up on the phone his father laughed it off and Stiles made a remark about the loft being too warm. Stiles couldn’t talk to his Dad about that for too long anyway, there were more important things to discuss (the amount of salad he was eating, for example), Derek had to hold the phone up for him while he spoke, it was pretty unusual, but there wasn’t any alternative.

Derek set up Skype for him and Scott. He asked if they wanted privacy and Stiles nodded, Derek said he’d go for a run and be back in thirty minutes. Stiles told Scott the important features of his life and gently skirted his way around the fact that Derek had given him a helping hand (he knew Scott would disapprove, he was _meant_ to be a part of Scott’s pack). When Scott asked how he was finding living without a release Stiles went with a wishy-washy comment about counting down the days.

Scott told him about a wolf that got kicked out for underage drinking. Stiles didn’t understand what the fuss was about given that alcohol didn’t affect werewolves, but given there were a few other groups (of humans) at the camp they had to appear as strict as ‘humanly’ possible (“You can’t make the same joke all the time, Stiles”). Stiles asked if Scott had met any girls there and as much as obviously Scott _had_ met some, one of them had threatened to bite Scott’s ear off (no, not a euphemism, she _genuinely_ wanted a bite of his ear) and that was obviously indicative of the kind of girl there.

Stiles heard Derek come home and quickly made his excuses. Scott seemed wary at how quickly he was being dismissed, but he had to get going too (they were going to spar for a bit) so he wasn’t _overly_ offended.

Stiles walked through to an empty living room. He saw Derek leaving his bedroom, his top only just pulled on, still slightly stuck to the top of his abs. Stiles tried not to stare, but he could barely help it, he’d been deprived of all internet nudity for far too long and if the only bit of flesh he was going to get to see was Derek then he wasn’t going to waste it. If Derek tried to call him up on it, then Stiles could… play the feeling inadequate card and laugh it off.

Stiles had nearly managed to avoid thinking about getting another hand job that day. He did consider it when he first woke up with his morning wood, but after it had subsided he’d got on with his day. The thing was though, that Stiles was hooked, but he didn’t _just_ want hand jobs, he wanted Derek on his knees in front of him, _begging_ for Stiles to let him suck his cock and well the truth of the matter was, that wasn’t going to happen. Firstly, that’s crossing the line to being way more than helping out a friend, secondly Stiles wouldn’t be able to resist for two seconds if Derek even _suggested_ sucking his cock never mind being able to hold off for a second if Derek tried to beg.

This was Stiles’ new problem, or at least one of them (first world problems are problems too), these fantasies about Derek were getting more and more realistic. At first Stiles was happy with the concept of Derek deciding to jerk him off, but now the fantasies needed more, they needed Derek’s hand resting on his hips or on his balls and they needed Derek’s fingers rubbing against the head gently and running along the underside of… Okay, so Stiles was _now_ thinking about getting another hand job, but for the most part he was trying to avoid becoming so dependent on…

“Stiles, how much do you masturbate at home?” Derek asked.

It _seemed_ like it was out of the blue, but with the reek of Stiles’ arousal he could only assume that Derek had more than curiosity triggering his question.

“Twice, maybe three times?” Stiles felt a heat rising into his cheeks.

“Oh. That’s not much.”

Stiles now had the image of Derek sprawled out on his bed, caressing himself. Stiles knew that wolves had a ridiculous sex drive. Stiles didn’t have the excuse of a wolf’s sex drive though. Stiles heard from Scott that he’s constantly ‘good to go’ (“Not an image I want, dude”), or at least that’s what he said once he started getting it on with Allison, they’d finish and apparently the wolf inside him reduced the refractory period to just long enough to go to the toilet and come back ready for a round two.

“You do mean a week, right?” Derek said.

Stiles didn’t say anything, he smirked and shrugged. He couldn’t respond to that in any way without sounding like a sex addict. Stiles’ image of Derek wanking away from dawn until dusk was kind of a little dubious now, but hey at least he wasn’t some kind of prudish monk. Not that it mattered to Stiles either way, if Derek didn’t masturbate that was his own business, it didn’t impact on Stiles…

“If you want me to help you get off that much then I will do.”

“How much do you? Y’know?”

“It depends.” Derek responded.

“We don’t have to get off constantly.” Stiles heart jumped into his throat, “What I mean is, we can get off together, I mean, if you want, whenever you’re getting off then you can give me a hand then Like one of those straight guy pornos and then I don’t feel like I’m being a burden.”

“We’re not straight guys.”

“ _No_ , but that’s the only example I can think of. We just, keep it relaxed and it’ll all be good. It’s fine if you’re not comfortable with the idea, but I just thought… If I were jerking someone off more than I normally did, then I’d want to be getting off that much too.” There was silence for a few seconds, “It’s fine it was a stupid idea.”

Derek shook his head. “It’s a fine idea.” He tilted his head as he glanced at his phone and looked back to Stiles. “We’ll give it a go and see how it goes. Your Dad wants to know if we can go and see him tomorrow.”

“Way to kill the mood there.” Stiles groaned

“I’ve got to make us dinner, your bedsheets need replacing and I’ve got to wash your clothes. I can’t just drop everything for your sexual gratification. There’s a house to keep in order, here and unless you want to stave and sit around without any clothes then -”

“Food is like a want next to my sex drive.” Stiles quipped, “Wait, is that why my clothes have smelt funny?”

“They don’t smell funny, they just smell like me.” Derek stood up and stretched his arms outwards. “Like my detergent anyway.”

Stiles raised his eyebrow and lay along the settee (well if Derek was going to stand up, he might as well claim the space). “I thought I smelt like a willow. Does that mean when you take a sniff in you can smell a tree covered in your scent? Oh my god, this is like a dog pissing on a lamp post isn’t it?”

Derek shook his head and tried to repress a smirk.

“Scott stopped letting me steal his jumpers after he got bit, he said the smell was too weird?”

Derek shrugged, “You’re a part of my pack, your smell is already all over my flat, I’m a born wolf I can control my sense of smell better, I can control my emotions _surrounding_ smells better and…” Derek trailed off and shrugged again.

“This is _totally_ a territorial thing.” Stiles said. “I get it, I’m in your space you want me to blend in and be like a plant pot or a vase. Does that mean I can steal your baseball jersey, that’s going to smell like you, right?”

Derek growled and quickly vacated the room.

Okay, so Stiles had hit on a sore spot. It was an item of sportswear; Derek probably wears it to exercise or something… That’s probably going to be one of those wolf things that that’s pushing the pack smell too far. It’s obviously going to smell like Derek, maybe he can steal a hoodie, or maybe he could grab that leather jacket, _yes_ , he was going to wear that leather jacket. That’s probably less personal, definitely a sign that he’s in Derek’s pack. (Plus, he’d stolen it for about two days three months ago when it was a little chilly and _my god was that jacket good_ )

Stiles’ mind jumped to the ideal of himself coming into Derek’s bedroom (casts gone, obviously), wearing only Derek’s leather jacket and maybe he’d wear some of Derek’s boxers. He’d make Derek choose which ones he wanted back, he’d only be allowed to take off one item. Stiles sighed, even in his fantasies Derek was picking to take the jacket back. Stiles considered it a little more deeply; he’d _sell_ Derek back his jacket, that’d work. That’d be the way for Derek to beg, for him to ask ever so kindly for Stiles to consider letting Derek suck his cock… Stiles would umm and ahh, because it wasn’t a simple question any more, he would be wearing Derek’s leather jacket and Derek would be begging for him to be kind enough to let him earn his jacket back.

Stiles wouldn’t agree at first. He’d make Derek massage his legs, kiss his ass, lick his balls and he’d have to do it like he wanted to. Then _only_ when he was satisfied that Derek _really_ wanted his jacket back he’d let him suck him off. Stiles groaned at the fact he’d allowed his mind to wander _back_ to sex with Derek. He didn’t want to be so obsessed. If he could just get him out of his system then it’d all be back to normal. Maybe Derek has a hideously deformed penis and all of his sexual fantasies would be gone.

-

Derek fed him again, and he shared a life story _again_. Stiles listened and he chewed slowly, if Derek was going to only tell him about his life when Stiles was eating his dinner (for some reason lunch wasn’t a sharing meal) then he was going to get his money’s worth.

Derek told him how in the olden days he used to hate pack, how he used to hate his family. They were always loud and demanding and requiring his constant presence, and at the time he didn’t understand. Derek wanted to be reading his books, his maths, his music, just passing the time on his own. He used to own a Sony Walkman (yes Stiles, the one for CDs) and he’d take it down to the lake on the Hale Preserve and he’d sit by the lake and listen to his music. He told Stiles how eventually his mother decided that if Derek wanted to do those things, then that was fine, but she was going to join him one afternoon a week and they were going to enjoy that time together whether Derek liked it or not. Talia would come out every Sunday afternoon with a Walkman she bought and she would sit on the opposite side of the tree and read her own book.

Derek explained how that was what pack meant to him, it wasn’t about being with everyone constantly. It was about never having to be alone. It was having someone who would be happy to do nothing with you, having someone who wanted to be in your presence regardless of whether they were talking to you. He said that he sometimes felt guilty about not liking his family as much as he could have done, and that if he’d known what was going to happen he would have tried to be more understanding. Stiles decided not to point out that Derek shouldn’t feel guilty for it.

“I was meant to be married by now. My parents said that if I didn’t find someone by the time I was twenty-one they’d arrange a marriage for me.” Derek said as he placed the fork down on the plate.

“I guess they wouldn’t approve of me, then. I’m not a wolf, I’m scrawny and I think that I’m more a risk to myself than to anyone else.”

“They’d like you. They wouldn’t match us up; they wanted me to marry a similar ranked family.” Derek paused and stared at Stiles for a moment, “But if they met you, they’d want me to marry you, and maybe they’d want to wait until you were older, so they’d probably only expect a betrothal. I’d still have a choice in the matter, of course.”

Stiles’ eyes locked with Derek’s. The stare either intensified or softened, Stiles couldn’t tell which. He didn’t break the eye contact though, it was soothing. Stiles realised what was being said, that Derek wouldn’t have to marry Stiles if he’d been arranged. Stiles glanced away from Derek and looked down at his hands in his casts. Derek was making sure that Stiles knew that the marriage would be amicable to his parents, but it wasn’t on the cards. He repeated back the thoughts he was having and realised how much they made him sound like an insolent child.

Derek wasn’t interested. Why was he even trying to force the whole issue?


	3. An Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the dubious consent. For full details see the chapter end notes!

The next morning Stiles woke up and rolled out of bed, he realised that he’d not even managed to get to jerk off with Derek last night. What’s the point in going through all that effort if he’s not even going to reap the rewards? He smiled as he stood up; he was going to be getting down with the walking piece of ass called Derek _fucking_ Hale. He was going to get to see his dick and he was going to be memorising that image, because there is no way he wants to forget that.

He walked through to the kitchen and it was empty again. He walked through the living room, but before he walked in through Derek’s door. He heard a faint groan. Stiles closed his eyes and turned around. Derek was enjoying his alone time or he was seriously ill. Either way it’s probably not something that was meant to be happening. He erred for a moment, _if_ Derek had agreed to jerk off with him, then it was going to happen eventually it didn’t matter if Stiles interrupted, because that was the plan. He turned again and looked towards the door.

Maybe he should leave Derek to his personal time. Stiles’ feet were jammed to the ground, half of him wanted to go in and join Derek. That was the plan suggested, right? Get Derek to jerk him off whenever he had to as well. Stiles edged forwards slightly and saw the bottom of Derek’s feet curling slightly. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best plan, he couldn’t interrupt Derek’s personal time. It’s one thing when you’ve agreed to do it, it’s another barging in on someone playing solitaire. He edged forwards more He could see that Derek was going slowly, his fingers running around both on his balls…

Stiles didn’t look away. He _couldn’t_ look away. He wouldn’t get a chance to see Derek getting off any time in the near future (okay, so if they got off together, he’d be able to catch glances, but that’s not the same). Besides, he’s already got this far so it’s not as though he’s invading Derek’s privacy any more by staying. Stiles saw Derek’s fingers run gently up the underside of his dick and Stiles felt his own twitch. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t a good idea, he should go back to his room and…

“Stiles.” He heard Derek almost _moan_.

It sounded strangely sexual and as much as he wished that is _was_ he was pretty certain that that was the warning. Derek would be able to smell, it was obviously just a bad moment to sound grouchy… Stiles jerked back away from the door and turned around. He took a deep breath, all he had to do was walk away. He hesitated just for a second before he heard another noise from the bedroom.

“ _No_. Come in.”

Stiles’ heart raced, he was _not_ in the mood to be told off first thing in the morning. He moved to take a step away but he heard a growl from behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Derek standing completely naked. Stiles span on the spot and Derek grumbled something before walking back into his room. Stiles followed him, he didn’t really have a choice. He was going to get told off and he knew it, he’d completely ruined the mood and now Derek was going to sit there all naked and looking beautiful explaining all the reasons why what he did was…

Derek pulled Stiles from the collar of his pyjama into the room fully and slammed the door behind him.

“So, _Stiles_. I see you fancy yourself as a bit of a Peeping Tom.” Derek growled. Stiles nodded and tried to avoid his gaze rolling along Derek’s naked body. Stiles’ Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. His eyes wandered. If Derek was going to tell him off then he might as well get his fill. Derek’s body was way better than he’d remembered. He wished he could reach out and touch, but his arms in casts were unfortunately still a thing. “Do you have anything to say?”

“I… Uh… Sorry, sir.” Stiles said. Then his mouth fell open. “DEREK! I mean Derek, oh my god, don’t shoot me, my mouth went too quickly. I didn’t think.” He took a deep breath, both men aware of the silence filling the room. “Derek. I mean Derek.”

Derek quirked an eyebrow. “ _Sir?_ ”

Stiles blushed. “I’m sorry, my tongue slipped. I just…” Then it hit Stiles that Derek wasn’t angry. He’d seen Derek angry before, he’d seen Derek ready to wolf out any second, this wasn’t that. Derek was toying with Stiles… He was… “Voyeurism is totally not cool, I know that. If you’re going to watch someone jerking themselves off you need to ask permission?”

Derek’s eyebrow somehow cranked up another notch.

“Sir?”

“I think you’re right.” Derek reach his hand out and he rubbed Stiles dick through his pyjamas. It was only a small amount of gentle pressure before his other arm reached up and he grasped onto Stiles’ shoulder. Derek didn’t apply any pressure, but Stiles understood the intonation. Derek was offering, making, whatever the fuck you want to call it Stiles suck his dick. Stiles was going to get his mouth around Derek’s dick for the first time and the only word to describe that is awesome

Stiles fell to the ground and moved his head forward lips puckering slightly, but Derek kept Stiles’ shoulder in place and his head just out of reach. Derek moved his other hand around and he started playing with himself. Stiles wasn’t sure what was happening, it was as though Derek wasn’t about ten centimetres away. Stiles didn’t understand, if Derek wanted him to suck him off them why was he acting like he wasn’t even there.

Stiles watched intently though, Derek’s hand almost glided along his dick. His fingers were barely brushing along his shaft. He’d run his fingers around the head a few time and Stiles saw a gentle compression coming from Stiles’ hand, but after he’d play with his testicles for a few seconds, squeezing each of them gently. Stiles found it hypnotic, it was a continuous loop and he seemed to move between each of the modes naturally and with ease.

“Are you enjoying the show, boy?” Derek mused as his hand curled around himself and jerked himself in the way that Stiles knew and loved.

“I am, I guess. But I don’t understand what I’m meant to be doing.”

Derek tilted his head and stopped jerking himself. “You’re _meant_ to be watching. You said you need permission without asking, I thought…” Derek’s hand pulled off Stiles’ shoulder. “I thought you wanted to?”

“I do.” He looked back at Derek. “I… has the moment gone?”

Derek didn’t say anything. There was a long pause, “We can do something less…  just, something less?”

“If you don’t mind, _sir_. My knees are getting sore and I don’t appreciate an interlude.”

Derek’s moved back to his slightly flaccid cock. Derek started jerking, his erection started to return fully. Stiles didn’t know what he was meant to do, or say, he knelt and watched as Derek’s jerking got faster and faster. Stiles saw Derek’s balls pull into his body slightly. Stiles knew the signs, Derek was going to come any second now. Stiles was about to pull away when something decided to stay put. Derek let out a loud moan and the first shot of come landed straight across Stiles’ face.

The second and third ropes landed on Stiles’ pyjama top and a large blob seemed to land on his chin, but for the most part Derek’s target had been acquired. Stiles was still knelt in front of Derek. Derek’s hands moved and began to stroke along his cheeks gently. Every time Derek came across some of his come he’d wipe it off gently (though it did seem to be doing a little spreading as well as removing). After about a minute he pulled Stiles to standing position. He looked at Stiles’ pyjamas and then glanced up back to Stiles.

“So, you suggested jerking off when I jerked off, is this good for you?” Derek’s thumb wiped some come off Stiles’ forehead and his hand moved down towards Stiles’ crotch. “Should I leave you here to wallow in your arousal?”

“Derek, don’t be such a dick.”

Derek tilted his head, “I didn’t realise we were on first name terms, _boy_.”

“Don’t be a dick, _sir_?”

“Better, but insolent. If you still want me to give you a hand, surely you have to make me feel like you’ve earned it. You’ve been taught your lesson, now do I give you something worthy of a distinction?”

“I’ll let you blow me if that’s better, sir?” Stiles bit his lip.

Derek didn’t say anything. Stiles wondered if he’d managed to find the one way of breaking Derek Hale. He was processing, surely? Trying to come up with a witty retort. Derek took a step closer to Stiles. Their bodies were pushed together. Derek’s push his arms round the back of Stiles’ pyjamas and he pulling him towards the bed.

-

Stiles landed on his back and… the bed was surprisingly soft. Stiles’ body sank into the bed, Stiles was not expecting a super soft mattress. Aren’t wolves meant to be all macho and sleep on disturbingly hard floors or something? Derek almost pounced on top of Stiles and Stiles lost his train of thought. Stiles didn’t exactly know how, but Derek had managed to strip his bottom half completely in almost a second. Stiles took a deep breath as he watched Derek’s head move towards his crotch. Derek paused a few inches away from Stiles and looked up to him, “Not so cocky now are you?”

“I… No, sir.” Stiles wasn’t going to push his luck, if Derek was going to suck his dick then that meant that he could pretty much make Stiles agree to anything.

Derek blew out gently, the cool air running along Stiles’ head. Stiles’ dick twitched, there was no way that he would be able to last long, he’d just watched Derek jerk off and been given a facial, there’s no way that it was going to be a marathon, but he was going to remember this so he didn’t want it to be too quick. Derek remained poised and his hand moved towards Stiles’ balls. Stiles let out a gasp as Derek took a firm squeeze and rubbed his thumb across each testicle in turn. His mouth opened slightly. Fuck, he was going to put his lips around him.

Stiles let out a moan, oh shit. This was _not_ what was meant to happen. He opened his mouth to warn Derek that he was about to… But it was too late, Derek’s mouth gawping a fraction away from Stiles’ dick, slammed shut, but even Derek’s werewolf reactions were a too slow, his mouth didn’t _fill_ with come, but it gotthe Stilinski sample…

Stiles was about to apologise, but he saw Derek’s face was _dripping_ with his come and any desire to apologise had just disappeared. It was like staking a claim on a new planet. His flag didn’t quite manage to get past the surface, but nobody could deny it was his. Derek pulled his head back and unbuttoned Stiles’ shirt (some come had got on it).

“Y’know Stiles, when you said I could blow you, I imagined you’d let me do more than blow some air on your dick. I didn’t realise I was that good.”

“Humans aren’t designed to get a facial and then get blown, it’s mathematically impossible or something. I’d like to see how well you cope with that sort of treatment.”

“ _The Theorem of Facials: Professor Stilinski.”_

Derek finished undressing Stiles (so fine, his socks and shirt were still on, but with cold wooden floors he was _not_ walking around this flat barefoot). Derek threw the shirt to the side quickly.

“Oh is that not highbrow enough for you? Do I need to throw in some economic theory and an orphanage for you to be interested?” Stiles realised that wasn’t actually funny. “Are you going to remove my come from your face or is it going to dry there?”

Derek shrugged. He pulled Stiles’ body around. Derek’s body came to rest with his face (his _slightly wet_ face) on Stiles’ chest, his legs wrapped around Stiles’ and his groin pushed against Stiles’ leg. Stiles decided to ignore the penis, really he did, but it wasn’t exactly something that he could just ignore. Stiles could feel the outline of another man’s slightly wet penis against his leg, if he hadn’t come a moment ago he’d totally be springing into action.

“Is that a hint you want your face washed?”, Derek muttered.

 “It’s fine, I’m still tired, I’m gonna’ sleep, a bit.” Stiles muttered. He heard Derek hum in approval (the vibration even tickled his nipple a little) and before he knew it he was asleep.

-

Stiles didn’t move, he was naked, lying on Derek’s bed with Derek’s legs wrapped around him and his head resting on his chest. So fine his arms in their casts were in the way, it’d be better if he could just wrap his arms around Derek, but if he could do that _this_ wouldn’t be happening. So he really shouldn’t complain.

Derek was asleep, one hand grappling across Stiles’ chest the other propping Derek up and around Stiles’ bulky casts. Stiles found it surprisingly warm lying here, the air was cool, but Derek’s body was warming and as much as Stiles knew that werewolves had a higher body temperature (sharing a bed with Scott was eighty times better now he had body heat), it was one of the features of their metabolism. They burned through the calories so quickly their temperature was a few degrees higher than a normal human’s, but those few degrees made werewolves a perfect radiator. No, it made Derek a perfect radiator; he had the necessary bulk too.

Derek didn’t wake up for ages, but Stiles didn’t mind, there was something surprisingly peaceful about Derek’s weight pushing against his chest, with his breath brushing across his skin. It was odd to think that this was the same man that was the personification of grumpy. He was a snuggler, best kept secret of the west coast, one which Stiles was now obliged to share with pretty much anyone who would listen.

Derek’s breathing pattern changed. “Stiles, stop thinking about being mischievous. I can’t sleep with your emotions filling the room. How long have you been awake?”

Stiles didn’t know, it had been some time. He couldn’t give an exact answer. He didn’t mind it though. Stiles knew he couldn’t say that. He knew how these things worked, he couldn’t lie, but he could stretch the truth. He couldn’t say that it was a long time, it would be weird not to wake Derek up, but he could form that as an opinion. “Not too long.”

Derek didn’t move immediately, he didn’t move for a few more minutes, actually. It was strange and peaceful. Derek eventually built the courage to pull his body away from Stiles’. He might not have another chance to cuddle with a naked Stiles again, but he couldn’t just make the hug last forever. Stiles felt the cool to the air fill the void almost immediately. He glanced at Derek’s arse as he stood up, but he looked away quickly, it was weird looking at Derek now that it wasn’t a part of something, sure Derek’s penis had been pushed against him while he slept, but that was different, this was taking advantage of the situation.

Derek walked over to the wardrobe and pulled on his clothes quickly. He disappeared for a second and returned with some clothes for Stiles. Stiles rolled out of bed in haste. They didn’t speak as Derek dressed him quickly. Stiles didn’t say anything, he didn’t know if he should, whether there was some conduct of how to behave, the more he thought about it the more he thought that getting his cock sucked (no, it didn’t happen, but it nearly did and that counts for something) was less ‘helping a buddy’ and moving towards being more gay. Just because Derek actually _is_ gay, and he didn’t seem to mind, he did it willingly. At least he, _nearly_ did. Stiles was aware that some people liked the idea of giving head to some unnamed stranger. Stiles would probably jerk off a guy he didn’t really know if the opportunity came up (it would have to be a mildly attractive guy, but he’d seen the craigslist adverts and they weren’t entirely repulsive as a proposal). Stiles felt the last button of his jeans being buttoned and Derek walked out of the room without a word.

Derek didn’t say anything. He’d _dragged_ Stiles through to his room and covered him in his scent, he was meant to be looking after Stiles. Sure Stiles had enjoyed it, but he was too young for this to be even approaching appropriate, if Derek had been a teenager again he’d _jump_ at the chance to have a sexual encounter. Stiles was still at High School and nearly at College. Even if the age difference was better, it didn’t make what Derek had done acceptable. And as much as Stiles couldn’t jerk off, Derek was taking advantage of him even by helping him with that. Sucking his dick would be pushing it too far. Stiles was being quiet, Derek could hear the nervousness as much as he could smell it. Derek tried to reassure himself, Stiles had just realised what a mistake he’d made in nearly letting Derek suck him off, he wasn’t necessarily nervous that he might get ravished, he was nervous that he’d given the wrong impression. He’d gotten swept away in the heat of the moment.

Derek couldn’t take the smell, he had to do something to mask it. Derek prepared breakfast (the smell of eggs and mushrooms nearly pushed past the stench of Stiles) and he then fed Stiles. The silence was unbearable.

Derek knew this was the push he needed, he’d overstepped the lines. He had to get over Stiles, and he had to do it now. He shouldn’t be in love with a teenager anyway, at least not one like Stiles. He was gangly, weak and he wasn’t the kind of man he could see himself with. He smelt nice, yes, but so did that woman that he met in Oregon, smell didn’t have to mean anything. Just because Stiles was so loyal and friendly and non-judgemental didn’t mean that he was right for him. Besides, Stiles would be moving away soon, that can be Derek’s chance to calm down, to stop the _infatuation_ with the boy. When Stiles goes away he won’t have to deal with his jokes.

Yes, just get through these last two weeks of Stiles being with him and they can go back to normal, Stiles is leaving in a month anyway. It’s not like he has to resist temptation for too long. It’s not even as long as lent, when Stiles’ arms are back to normal, the thing that’s lubricating (not the best choice of words, Derek) the situation is gone.

Stiles hated how quiet Derek was being, the only full conversation they’d seemed to manage was when Stiles asked if he could have is face washed (“uh _yeah”_ ) and Derek really stretched his conversational skills at dinner when he asked a full question! (“Burger and fries?”). Okay, so fine Derek was being dull, but Stiles was _trying_ to get conversation going, trying to let Derek know that they were good. It was as though they were back to square one, Stiles doing all the talking, Derek ignoring him and absolutely nothing happening. He tried not to take it personally; Derek had said the other day that it wasn’t a relationship thing, so obviously Stiles had pushed it too far, suggesting Derek blows him is the line.

Stiles didn’t want this to go on any longer, he just wanted to clear the air. Maybe he shouldn’t just powerhouse in, but he had to. “Hey, Derek. I’m sorry for suggesting you blow me. In hindsight, it was pushing the boundaries too far and obviously I’m grateful that you’re giving me a hand and… Well I was happy with that whole thing, it was really hot and great and then…” Stiles tailed off, “Just, sorry and thanks for being so great about this whole thing?”

Derek didn’t say anything, he tried to ignore the slight nausea he was getting, it wasn’t like this was unexpected it was what he thought. Stiles was worried what Derek thought the blowjob meant and he was backtracking. “It’s fine. We’re friends jerking off together; it doesn’t need to be complicated.”

Derek’s stomach felt slightly hollow. He’d just powerhouse through this, once Stiles is gone he’s going to be looking at building up his pack again, he’d be busy. Stiles wouldn’t have to know about this stupid little crush.

-

Two days later Stiles rolled out of bed. He’d started waiting until he could vaguely hear the sound of Derek pottering all around the flat before getting up. It seemed like the wisest course of action. He remembered that they’d been intending to go down to the orphanage this afternoon. It had been Stiles’ idea of course, he had all but insisted that Derek should try and go about his normal business as much as possible.

Stiles didn’t think that he had much of an ulterior motive, but he wanted to see where Derek was spending his day and he wanted to see to believe. He just had never imagined Derek as a kid person, he’d always assumed that he was going to be one of those grumpy eighty year olds with a large house and no surviving descendants. Stiles didn’t exactly see something wrong with that, but when you find out a guy is building a house to raise his eventual spawn you expect someone with more people skills.

Stiles staggered through to the kitchen. He really wanted to rub his eyes, it was something he sorely missed, it wasn’t even something that he could ask Derek to do, the pleasure didn’t come from the dry stuff finally getting out of the eye. There was a perverse pleasure in the act. It was sort of like scratching your balls, if you didn’t bother it didn’t exactly bother you, but it was still nice and hell… well Stiles missed that too.

Stiles still didn’t feel aroused this morning. He’d not had an orgasm since then. He was still attracted to Derek, but the whole situation had started to leave him as unaroused as possible. Derek had noticed yesterday, it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t notice (he could _smell_ everything) and that was how the plan had come about to go out. Well, Stiles wasn’t sure that this was the reason, but Derek had asked what Stiles wanted to do with the last few weeks living here. Stiles was flexible, he said as much, Derek pushed for details, and well Stiles said that if Derek goes to the orphanage normally he wouldn’t mind going.

Derek had tried talking himself out of it, but when Stiles said that he wanted to see where Derek passed his days, the reluctance disappeared pretty much instantaneously. That’s how they were driving down to Beacon Vale just past midday. Derek had insisted that Stiles would  be bored. There was an unfortunately large amount of truth in that statement. Stiles was basically ignored as Derek read through a story with one of the children that had just learned to read.

Stiles wasn’t completely ignored, one of the staff did have a brief conversation with him.

“We were worried about Derek.” He said, before glancing over to him. “He’s a bit of a recluse.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say, Derek wasn’t far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to hear. He opened his mouth, but the man interrupted before he had a chance to speak.

“We weren’t even sure he had friends.”

Stiles raised his eyebrow. “He’s got friends.”

The man shrugged. Stiles turned to look at him more closely, he had a bit of paint on his shirt, but even so it was _not_ looking as white as it should have been. Stiles tried to avoid a grimace at the grimy shirt.

“Okay, he doesn’t have many friends, but he’s got a good heart.” Stiles said. “He’s happy on his own. It’s just the way he is.”

“He’s happier with you.” The man hesitated. “I have work to do, I just. We wanted to say that we’re glad he’s found someone.”

Stiles nodded and the man walked off. Stiles looked back to Derek reading with a child. Derek glanced over to him and smiled. Yeah, Derek had found someone. He’d found a friend and nothing more. Stiles was a good friend to him at least, the best of friends, even. Stiles had to remember that. He was a friend to a man that didn’t have any, that should be good enough for him. It just _wasn’t_.

Stiles knew that obviously he was a gangly, weed of a guy and he didn’t exactly have thirty layers of abs and muscle piled onto his body, but he’d been told he wasn’t unattractive. (Admittedly that was a woman who wanted to kill him, even she didn’t go as far as calling him attractive.) But Stiles knew that the world was full of ugly people who were in relationships. He didn’t know how he was meant to become one of those people. The first part was easy, don’t shave for a month and skip a few showers and you’ll be all greased up to the next decade, but the getting the relationship _probably_ didn’t follow the same rule.

Stiles looked away from Derek. Stiles was staring and he knew that would make him feel uncomfortable. He’d probably smell of love right now. He’d smell like a fucking monsoon on the lake. That was the thing wasn’t it? At least his natural smell of a bloody tree could do something to help cover it up. Stiles rolled his eyes and a girl tapped him on his leg.

Stiles had never been more grateful for a distraction in his life. She didn’t even say anything exciting, or _do_ anything exciting, she just prodded his casts a few time and asked if she could sign it. Stiles hesitated for a split second when another child arrived and mimicked the request. He probably had to agree, but before he knew it his cast was not just signed, but it was also covered with drawings of butterflies, very badly drawn cats and he was about eighty five percent certain that one of them was actually a penis.

Stiles started to need the toilet. He decided to very quietly whisper this under his breath. Fortunately Derek’s hearing was top notch, he put a finger up to say ‘one minute’ or maybe ‘one moment’. They left soon after, the car journey was quiet (Derek said that it wouldn’t be normal to help Stiles use the toilet at the home).

“I see you liked David.” Derek said.

“Is that the dude? I don’t think he understands the need of a man to buy new shirts when old ones get grotty.” Stiles paused. “Definitely not my type.”

“Thanks for saying I have a good heart.”

“You do, though.” Stiles said.

“I just thought you might have felt differently after…”

“Derek, look. I enjoyed it, we’re not going to worry about the whole _incident_. We both like different kinds of things and I really like being pulled around, at least I think I do and if we’re fooling around or whatever you want to call it I’m happy to explore the many facets of human sexuality. I mean, if we kept it to you and I just having a quick one then we’d get bored. Heck, I get bored of my own schedule at home, but the only variety I have there is which porn, who I try and invent a limited sexual fantasy about or which erotic story I read.”

Derek nodded. “I’ve some LGBT literature at home. Usually better than places like literotica, I’m not going to read to you some of the scenes in there, but you can borrow some once you’re better. Some of the books ‘explore the many facets of human sexuality.’”

“Oh, come on, don’t take the piss!” Stiles moaned, “I’m a virgin, I’ve got to figure out all of these things somehow. I’ve found enough shit to know what kind of things I like, but obviously that doesn’t cover everything. I found a story a while back about this guy whose arms are broken. He basically gets his best friend to be some little bitch or something. I can’t remember the details, it was ninety eight percent porn with two percent filler trying to get between sex scenes. It was hot.”

Stiles heart rate rose rapidly. Okay, so that wasn’t the best example to share. Why couldn’t he share the police man story? Or one of the eight million sex slave ones he’d read that were kinda’ hot. He had to pick the one suspiciously analogous. But it was _true_ , he had read a story about that and if Derek found that a little odd then -

“Stiles, I’m not going to read into that, relax.” Derek bit his lip as he turned towards Beacon Hills town centre.

“Good, I mean I might like that sort of thing, I’ve never really tried bossing someone around before.”

Derek forehead furrowed.

“You know what I mean, not in a sexual way. I mean, I don’t think I did in a sexual way? I mean I suggested very heavily that you should blow me, I didn’t mean for -”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“Make me.”

“I could let you wet yourself and refuse to jack you off.” Derek grumbled.

Stiles’ eyes widened, “Wow, humiliation play and orgasm denial. I expected better from you Hale.”

“I just want a few moments of peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask?”

“You’ve been acting like a sourwolf the past few days and there is no way I’m giving up on you being so chatty. If I knew the way to get you in a good mood and to talk was to take you to see the kids then we’d have done it sooner.”

“I didn’t mean to be distant.” Derek said. Stiles started talking about something else, “You know I’m happy at the moment, right?”

Stiles didn’t say anything, he nodded, but Derek’s eyes were fixed on the road, still. “Yeah, I know that. Of course I do.”

Derek smiled at him. It was sincere, and calming and… Stiles felt a twinge of attraction to Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious consent at the beginning of the chapter:  
> \- Stiles watches Derek masturbate, without prior consent  
> \- Derek initiates a sexual encounter without explicit consent  
> \- Under negotiated kink. (Entirely un-negotiated)
> 
> The rest of this end note may contain spoilers.
> 
> The erotic story does exist based around a guy with broken arms. It was the thing that inspired this little fic. I'm totally not sorry. It's pretty much all sexual encounters and no plot, but if you really want to give it a whirl: [Link](http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/broken-arms/) \- [Mobile Link](http://m.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/broken-arms/1) & plaintext link: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/broken-arms/


	4. An Architect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight dub con again. If last chapter was fine, then this one will be. If not, then this is similar.

A few days later Stiles woke up with a _raging_ hard-on. Seriously, whatever dream he’d been having must have been some intense shit, because he was not made to be dealing with this. He’d not had an orgasm since the… near blow job, but he expected that he’d be way less aroused than this. He hadn’t even _encouraged_ this level of arousal. He physically couldn’t.

Stiles tried not to think about sex, but yet another shining example of his low self-restraint came shining through when _all_ the different ways he could take Derek in this house sprang to mind, and then all the ways that Derek could take him. He even wondered if there was a way to get two Dereks (He’d been spending a lot of time with Derek, it’s only natural. Not to mention that magic is totally possible). He moved to sit up when he saw Derek at his door.

“I can smell you.” Derek stepped through to the bedroom and closed the door. “I can smell how turned on you are from my bedroom. I was doing work and here you are thinking… _dirty_ thoughts. They’re so loud, you’re almost screaming to be touched.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and pulled himself up to seated position. Derek was much closer now. Derek was almost on top of him, waiting him to make the next move. “You’re only here because you were distracted, you were waiting for me to become aroused, weren’t you?”

Derek moved his arm towards Stiles’ bedcovers and jerked them off.

“I bet you were touching yourself, thinking how you couldn’t wait to get in here and smell it up close.”

Derek mounted the bed, his arms resting on each side of Stiles. Eye contact bored through Stiles, but he ignored it and carried on.

“How does it feel to be an alpha and know that some human owns you? A little bitch to a human, all at your own accord.”

There was silence. It wasn’t awkward, the silence was filled with arousal. Or at least Stiles hoped it was, there was no way to know. Derek’s arms pushed Stiles back down and onto the bed. Stiles felt something grind against him, he glanced down but it was just the zip of Derek’s jeans, the cockblock of the western world. Derek looked like he was firmly concentrating.

“I asked you a question, _bitch_.” Stiles accidentally spat and some saliva landed on Derek’s face.

“It feels like I’m in my proper place.” Derek said.

“Damn right it does, I bet you loved my come all across your face and I bet you wish that would happen every time.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes and stared into Derek’s. “I… Yes, I like that.”

Stiles moved back to a less assertive voice, “I feel that I need a title. Alpha seems too werewolfy, though maybe you like that sort of thing, I don’t know? Master seems too Doctor Who-y, uhhh… There’s got to be something.” Derek raised an eyebrow. “Oh, oh! What about Chief?” Derek’s raised his other eyebrow to join it. “Okay, so that sounds like something my Dad would be called. Shit, I’m ruining the moment…”

“I like Master.” Derek said as he pulled his head closer to Stiles’ ear, “very… domineering.”

Any thoughts of The Sheriff quickly ran from Stliles’ mind and he was _back_ in the mood. “Very well. First things first, bitches don’t need clothes, take them off.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I didn’t allow you to speak.” Stiles smirked. Derek’s smile was so _not_ right for this sort of moment. “Fine, you can speak.”

Derek pushed himself back up so he was kneeling over Stiles’ legs. He watched Derek unbuckle his belt and pull it from his jeans in one quick movement. Derek unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them along his leg, he made sure to brush against his crotch as he did so. There was a slightly wet patch on the front of Derek’s boxer shorts. Stiles could see Derek’s dick trying to push through the button of his boxers.

“I see you’re already excited. The idea of getting to touch your master is that exciting, huh? I didn’t tell you to stop taking off your clothes now, did I?”

Derek nodded and pulled off his t-shirt. He pulled his jeans off the rest of the way, Stiles knew Derek’s game, he was trying to tease Stiles, but two could play at that game. Stiles almost held his breath as Derek removed his boxers. He was still knelt in front of Stiles, Stiles could see a slight glistening of Derek’s precome. Fine, so maybe Derek was winning the teasing game, but he’s looking down on him, looking far too beautiful and that’s got to be a problem.

“You may not touch me, but you may touch my pyjamas. Depending on how well behaved you are we’ll see how you get rewarded.”

Stiles was not prepared for how well Derek would handle the… barrier. Derek was still jerking him off seemingly normally, the only difference was way more friction on the head, and the whole thing felt a little more detached from Derek, but he wouldn’t be coming any time soon and given he seemed a little too eager last time, that was at least a good thing. Then there was the whole thing of Derek’s dick pushing against his leg, he tried to appear disinterested in what Derek was doing. It didn’t work.

“You can take my pyjama bottoms off now. You are _not_ allowed to make me come until I tell you to do so. Understand?”

“Yes, master.”

Derek pulled the pyjamas with a yank, they stubbornly stuck onto Stiles’ erection and Stiles let out a gasp of pain. Derek’s palm was on Stiles’ dick a second later, going at it with some tempo. Stiles had to take Derek on his word that he’d not make him come, Stiles was _not_ going to waste this moment on a five minute hand job.

“If only your wolves could see you now, their precious alpha waiting for a command from a human. Don’t worry, Master won’t tell them, as long as you behave.” Something brushing against his leg in a jerking motion. It was Derek’s other hand. “Did I tell you that you could touch yourself?”

Derek’s eyes shot up in surprise. “No, master.”

“Hands off! Get on the floor and kneel.” Stiles jumped out of bed quickly. “I don’t have my hands, so I can’t spank you or whip you for your behaviour.”

Derek look bemused as Stiles stood close to him.

“I have only one tool at my disposal. How many lashes do you think you deserve?”

“Five?”

“And another five for forgetting my name. I am your master, don’t forget it. Place your head in front of my crotch.”

Derek wasn’t sure where this was going and then it hit him. No _really_ , it hit him. He was surprised that Stiles could even get that much force behind it, it even slightly stung. He tried to supress a smirk as Stiles was getting stabbed by his stubble with each strike (Stiles smelt like pain as well as arousal, and that stubble was a natural defence) and he took his punishment. Stiles came to a stop, and gestured for Derek to carry on.

He used both hands this time. He wouldn’t have to resist the urge to touch himself and Stiles wouldn’t be able to get grumpy about the whole thing being a little less one sided. He tried to remember how he got here as he took one hand off Stiles’ dick and moved it around to grab Stiles’ ass. He squeezed it firmly, as he jerked with the other hand. Stiles was getting close so he let go completely. He moved the hand on his ass around a little, he stroked up from the back of Stiles’ balls to…

“Derek!” Stiles jerked away from Derek quickly. “That’s moving this whole this dangerously close to something where we don’t want this to go.”

Derek just nodded, “Of course, Master. Sorry, Master.”

“I…” Derek’s hand arrived back on his dick. “Wait, we didn’t discuss if you’re happy for me to come on your face ‘cause…”

Derek growled and pumped more aggressively on Stiles’ dick. “You can come all over me, Master”

“My cocksucking, faggot alpha getting his Master off.” Stiles felt slightly nauseous at the insult (okay, so it still felt a little hot, but that was way too close to the bone).

Derek let out a long hum, _god_ that was unnaturally dirty. “I like what my Master likes.”

“I’m not sure I’ll let you make me come. You’ve already shown how you disrespect me.”

“Sorry Master.” Derek jerked a few more times on Stiles’ dick, “I won’t touch myself again, Master. Please come on my face.”

Okay, this had been going on long enough, and Stiles was ready to explode. Derek’s hand let go again, if he weren’t so fucking close to an orgasm, maybe he’d think of something to say. He felt the moment start to fade, okay, maybe he could think of something now… “Master wants to see his come dripping all over your face…”

Derek’s eyes widened, “Now, Master?”

Stiles bit his lip and nodded, “You can touch yourself too.”

Derek’s hand reached up again. He held it still and Stiles bucked his hips a few times. Stiles watched as Derek frantically jerk himself off, it wasn’t calm like when he’d walked in on him. This was rushed from the start. Was he trying to catch up or something? Derek pulled Stiles forward by his dick, his face was an inch or two from Stiles. Derek tilted Stiles dick up slightly as he carried on jerking him. Derek’s eyes were fixed on Stiles’ balls. Waiting for the indication he was to come.

Stiles’ eyes were fixed on Derek. He normally closed his eyes during orgasm, but there was no way that he was doing anything but ride this one out. And he was riding this one out _in style_. There was a still pause in Stiles’ consciousness as Derek pulled him over the edge. He heard his own ragged breath finally give way and watched as his come splashed across Derek’s face. Stiles bucked his hips in time with Derek continuing to jerk him off, every drop of come landing on Derek’s face.

Derek was still jerking off, dripping the come onto his neck. Some of the first rope was rolling down Derek’s face and Stiles watched as some rolled off the end of his chin and onto the floor. Derek made no sound as he came (asides from a harsher breath outwards), Stiles wouldn’t have noticed he’d even finished if it hadn’t all landed on his leg. It seemed like a reasonably fair trade (Stiles _definitely_ won this bargain). Derek didn’t stand up for a moment, he looked up to Stiles.

“Thank you, Master.”

“That was _amazingly hot_.” Stiles said. “I’m feeling a bit sticky, if we can have a quick wash before breakfast that’d be great. I mean, I’m assuming you want to get washed up too. I mean, obviously I can’t help you, but I mean…”

Derek pulled his hand away from Stiles’ flaccid cock. Derek stood up and placed his hands on his hips. “No. Sure, that’s fine.”

-

The next ten days went _way_ too fast.

-

Stiles heard the alarm go off. He rolled over and his eyes jerked open when he realised that nobody was in the bed with him. It was just so annoyingly typical that Derek would leave bed without telling him, (he’d tried on the first day they’d shared the bed and Stiles had been passive aggressive about it the whole day), but Stiles had got used to waking up with Derek wrapped around him. He’d also got used to Derek’s hand caressing his balls from the moment he woke up every morning (seriously, Derek was _fixated_ ), but that was a positive sidenote to the cuddles.

Stiles castigated himself, he was starting to treat it as though it was something with some meaning, they’re sharing a bed because they’re bros and they’ve not got the normal human personal space issues. It doesn’t _mean_ anything to Derek, Derek’s a wolf, they like physical contact. He rolled onto his back again and saw Derek standing in the doorway. He could probably smell Stiles’ morning wood or something.

“We’ve got to go out today, I’ve got stuff to do in Beacon Vale.”

It was only _eight_ o’clock. “Derek, just because you have things to do doesn’t mean that I do… I’m perfectly safe at home.”

“You might need the toilet.”

“Then we can take off my pyjamas.”

"You might slip.”

Stiles knew this was a losing cause, he rolled over slightly and hoped that would convince Derek to leave him alone. It worked… for nearly three seconds before bedcovers were thrown across the room and Stiles had no choice, but to get up.

“Fine! But I’m going to moan all day.”

-

Stiles was sat in a waiting room or an architect. Derek had disappeared downstairs to the coffee shop to get Stiles a hot chocolate and himself a coffee, their appointment was another ten minutes away and Stiles was being pretty stubborn about his guarantee to moan whenever possible.

The secretary answered the phone and then looked up to Stiles, “Ms Tapp is waiting, I’ll send your boyfriend through when he comes back?”

“Oh, Derek? He’s not my boyfriend.”

She smiled and tilted her head at him. She looked smug, “Do you need me to grab the door?”

“I… I’ll just wait until Derek’s here. It’s his appointment so it’d be weird going in first.”

“So tell me how two young guys like you ended up with up with a large country house.”

Derek pulled into the room just in time to save Stiles from a terribly awkward conversation. He was holding two drinks.

“Hey, sweetums.” Derek said. “I’ve got you your drink, are you ready to go through?”

Stiles nodded and followed Derek (he’d not bothered waiting for a response.)

As they went through to the Architect he realised he recognised the woman from somewhere. Then he realised, it was _that_ woman that his dad had been seeing. When Stiles says ‘seeing’ he doesn’t know _exactly_ what that entailed, but the Sheriff had told Stiles that he was running a few night shifts and well he didn’t make it back in his uniform. Stiles decided not to ask about it, that’d be crossing some personal boundaries and his Dad must have been way too old for her.

“Hey, Ariana.” Derek kissed her on both cheeks. “I see you’ve done well for yourself.”

“Oh come on! I design houses; there are more exciting jobs in the world.”

“Speaking of more exciting things Ariana, meet Stiles. You’ll love him. Stiles, meet Ariana. She was in Laura’s year at school.”

Stiles smiled and nodded, “We’ve actually met once.”

Ariana’s face dropped. “It was when I ran into some trouble with being hit by an unmarked car a few months ago. I had to give statements to the Sheriff.”

Derek smirked, “He was who referred me to you, actually. Though I do want to know, who decides to live one town away from where they were brought up?”

“We all have our ghosts Derek. Mine are _actual_ ghosts. You remember my marriage, right?”

Derek shrugged.

“He’s dead. He doesn’t seem to get the idea that he needs to move on.” She laughed at her own joke. “Anyway, to business? Stiles, your Dad told me that you and Derek were going out when I had my crash. You must have been going out for six months or something by now, and Derek said that you’d need space in the house that was your own.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, she didn’t know that his Dad had only thought that for a month. Poor girl, everything she was saying was digging this hole deeper for her.

“And well with Derek’s lone wolf side coming out once a month worse than my last period, I created a moon room for you so you have some alone space to chill in. It wasn’t in the original house plan. If you lace the walls with some types of wolfsbane you can have some wild trippy dreams while you sleep.”

Stiles nodded, “I’m not really a drugs person. Y’know, The Sheriff’s kid and all.”

“Oh, no, of course.” She smiled. “I’ll let you discover the magic of wolfsbane for yourself. I have a book I can lend you…”

Stiles thanked her, trying to refuse the offer, but ‘she insisted’ and handed the book to Derek to take home with them.

Derek turned to Stiles. “It’s a space so you can go, I won’t be able to scent you, or hear you, wolfsbane protects against me and certain types work against certain senses it’s your own space for when you come back from college.” Derek said. “Mom always wanted a moon room for Dad.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say, he nodded. “That’s cool. Means you’ll be able to leave me to my thoughts for once?”

Ariana pointed to the basement. “As you can see, the original plan for the basement remain. I know how much you wolves like having somewhere to chain up the unruly ones, but figured that it doesn’t have to _feel_ too dungeon-y. Adding lighting here and here will improve the situation. If we produce metal bars with wolfsbane that’s particularly sensitive to a shifted wolf then it means you won’t need to have as many chains and it can double up as a winery when you don’t need all the cells.”

Stiles wasn’t sure how long this went on for. Derek didn’t even say anything when the plans were done. He sat in silence. Ariana looked nervous, even Stiles could tell she was nervous, she’d obviously put a lot of work into them she’d redesigned the upper floors from the original plans to allow enough room for up to twelve pack members in their own rooms. Four of the rooms were well suited to couples. This was the starting place for the rebuilding of the Hale pack to somewhere close to what it was.

She’d left the loft space open and had said that there was potential for further building, there were sections of the building designed to be either studies or small bedrooms, there were rooms that were designed as potential second reception rooms, if other packs were visiting.

“I think it’s great.” Stiles said. “I never imagined anything like this. You’ve put so much detail into the plans, when did you specialise in werewolf architecture? Is that like a course, or just something you learn? Wait… are you a wolf?”

“I did a two week residential intensive course with the Werewolf Alliance. It was in the middle of Canada in the middle of winter and it was way too cold all the time. I was the only human. Most of my clients are humans anyway, but the McKinnon Pack and Pendle Pack both did their major renovations through me and because werewolf houses are so big it helps with the pay too.”

“So cool.” Stiles looked to Derek looking solemn in his chair. “Derek?”

“The plans are great.” Derek said. “We really should be going. Ariana, it’s been great seeing you, we must catch up soon.”

Derek stood up and walked towards the door. Stiles jumped up and looked sadly at his barely drunk hot chocolate, he glanced over to Ariana, “He’s… He appreciates this. I know he seems grumpy, but… it’s not personal.”

He ran out after Derek. He jumped into the car, the door was open waiting for him. Derek crawled over him to slam the car door shut behind Stiles.

“Derek.” Stiles couldn’t move his arms at all, _fuck_ _that_. “I’d like to hug you or something now. I think your family would be so proud of you rebuilding that house. It’s a house designed for a developing pack. I’ve seen that plot of land, and you don’t have as many bedrooms as you did, but you don’t need enough for more than fifteen to twenty people. You need a pack house which plays to your strengths, not your mother’s. Your mother was great at bringing people together, she relied on safety in numbers. Your strength is strategy and loyalty and… you don’t need to worry about the house changing. It needs to.”

“I know.” Derek’s hand landed on Stiles’ leg. “I miss them.”

His hand crept up the leg and then a few seconds later it crept up again. “No, Derek. We’re not doing this now. We’re going to go home, we’re going to have some hot chocolate, we’re going to cuddle, and that means you’re going to cuddle me, because these arms ain’t hugging anything. _Then_ , we’re going to watch some shitty Disney film and then we’re going to order some pizza. No pity sex, just a nice friendly evening. Comprende?”

Derek nodded.

“Are you happy to drive, or do you want to go and take a walk in the garden centre. If you’re rebuilding the house, then you also need the gardens redoing, like a herbaceous border and a big tree planted.”

“What the fuck is a herbaceous border?”

Stiles shrugged. “It was in a book, I was trying to get some background research on Hale House and well I got a book out and it was about some architect in the UK, uh… Hale Park exists there and I thought that made sense at the time, but obviously it wasn’t your house. Anyway, he also designed Chatsworth House and there’s a herbaceous border and it looked damn fine. I think it’s a type of plant? Flowery herbs maybe? I don’t know.”

“So you want me to plant some herbs and a fucking tree? The house is in a fucking forest, Stiles.”

Stiles smirked and Derek ignited the engine. It was strange, Derek was smiling and fine, so Stiles was seeing that recently, but it still didn’t stop it from being strange. Stiles watched Derek as he drove, it felt calming. Once in a while Derek would glance over at him. He didn’t seem to glare as normal, it was a softer glance. Stiles stopped looking after a while, the monotonous sound of the car overpowering. They were still driving home, Stiles turned his head to the views of the river.

He’d gotten used to living with Derek now. Sure, there were still slightly strange things and requiring assistance to go to the toilet was nearly the full list, but he’d enjoyed this summer. It was only a month away from him heading across the coast to college though. He had so much packing to do, and he hadn’t even figured out how he was going to get all his stuff over without the Jeep (The insurance claim was _still_ processing). It was still smashed up somewhere.

Stiles watched Derek drive again. He still looked sad (or at least he was wearing a mean scowl). Stiles knew that it wasn’t going to be easy for Derek. He couldn’t imagine living in the house they’d used to live with his mom again. The memories would be too powerful. Stiles remembered when his father and he had boxed everything up when they’d moved out. They’d not even managed to build up the courage to reopen them. They would still be sat in the cellar or attic covered in dust and spiders webs. Some things had come out of course, but some things felt better locked away.

“I can’t believe I was in a car crash.” Stiles said as Derek pulled the car onto the main road going into Beacon Hills. “Like, after surviving a million stupid attacks and pack invasions and pixies and vampires the way I nearly died was in a car crash that wasn’t my fault. How the hell did I _only_ manage to break my arms anyway? That’s some creepy…”

“You had concussion, you had a cracked rib and there was a period where your left lung collapsed.”

“What?” Stiles jerked his head around.

“You missed the worst of it. Things were pretty bad.”

“Cracked ribs take weeks to heal.”

“Deaton came in and worked his magic. Melissa said that a cracked rib disappearing could go unnoticed if they put it down to bruising instead, an arm unbreaking would be too noticeable though.”

Stiles didn’t say anything.

“I could have killed the man in the other car. I nearly did when I saw him.” Derek’s hands stiffened on his steering wheel. “But I shouldn’t have let you go home alone so late.”

“Oh _come on_ , Derek! You can’t blame yourself for other people, he was a drunk driver. My Dad took my statement and then told me all the details about this prick. He made a stupid error of judgement and he’s got his car totalled and his insurance will cover me getting another Jeep when I’m at college. No harm done. Heck, if I’d stayed with you, I could have been hit by a bus walking towards the car in the morning and you’d have blamed yourself for that too.”

The Camaro pulled around and towards Derek’s parking space. Stiles felt his belt unbuckle and waited for Derek to come and open his side of the door. Stiles nodded at an old lady giving the two of them suspicious looks before following Derek inside. There was silence as Stiles walked up the stairs quickly. When they arrived in the flat Stiles ran through to the kitchen.

Derek followed him at almost snail-like pace. He stared at Stiles who was smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“So, Disney movies. Which Disney movies do you like? Have you seen Beauty and the Beast? Oh, oh, Monsters Inc? Snow White? I love Snow White.” Stiles felt Derek’s hand brush along his waist, gently before coming to rest on his hipbone. Derek was staring at him still, intensely. Stiles opened his mouth, “Have you ever watched Tangled?”

Derek’s body moved closer, it didn’t feel sexual. Stiles could feel it was intense. Derek’s fingers ran up the side of his torso. It reached his shoulder almost gripping his neck at the same time. Stiles swallowed, Derek was leaning in to kiss him, this was like fifty wet dreams all rolled into one and he was going to savour this moment. He could feel his heart racing, his first kiss with an actual man, and it was going to be…

Derek’s nose rubbed against his. He didn’t seem to be moving to kiss Stiles. He was hovering. Stiles could feel his light breath against his face and… Stiles closed the gap, he pushed his lips against Derek’s, it didn’t feel like an actual kiss, Derek didn’t seem to be doing much. Stiles pulled back away, but the gap disappeared again, no tongue, but Stiles didn’t mind. Derek was doing way more now anyway and tongue was totally overrated and there were no two ways about it.

Stiles stared into Derek’s eyes as he pulled away.

“So you’re more of a Mermaid guy?”

“Pick a fucking movie. You’ll have your hot chocolate in a minute.” Derek moved towards the fridge and pulled out the milk and then went to the cupboard to grab cocoa. It was Stiles’ favourite brand. When Derek pulled the lid off the container a cloud of dust went flying into the air. The metal film beneath the lid had still been unpierced, “I don’t drink hot chocolate much, it’s too sweet.”

Stiles didn’t say anything and watched Derek mill about the kitchen. He poured the milk straight into the pan and he wolfed out _exactly_ one finger to pierce the lid of the cocoa powder. Stiles didn’t understand why he didn’t just use the spoon, but he figured if it kept his inner wolfy desires to show off in check, then he might as well let it slide.

Stiles wanted to ask about the kiss, what it meant. It was weird, it was intimate and it didn’t seem to be in the territory of the general vibes he was getting from whatever _this_ was. He thought they were meant to be just friends, this didn’t mean anything and then he kissed him. It wasn’t as if something would have changed, maybe they were more friends with one-sided benefits and strangely kinky encounters (were what they even doing classed as kinky or was it normal role play? Stiles didn’t know). If didn’t matter, they were still friends first and foremost. He wished that Derek would just tell him what this whole thing is.

Derek poured the hot milk into the cups and gestured for Stiles to go through to the sofa. “So what Disney movie are we watching?”

“Beauty and the Beast, like dude the beast is _so_ you. All growly and mean and nasty, but beneath that rugged, funny face I know the truth you’re all cute and fluffy a _nd_ you’re a snuggler.”

“Funny face?” Derek scowled. He placed the mugs on the coffee table.

“It’s lovely and sunny and…”

“You’re quoting Gershwin again, aren’t you?”

“Hey, if you didn’t want me using his words you wouldn’t have given me such rich material. Your mother listened to electronica, but _no_ , grumpy Derek was too good for Pop Musik and The Human League and decided his Aunt Irma’s taste were far more in his league of superiority. If those are the words that get you every time…”

Derek glared. He’d loaded up the film while Stiles had been talking. “I’m pressing play now. I thought this was to cheer me up. Not to insult my tastes.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he heard the opening Disney music. Derek pulled towards him, his arm wrapped around him. The rest of the movie went as expected, Stiles would want to say something, he’d say it and then he’d shush Derek’s response. Besides Derek had admitted he’d not even _seen_ the movie before, he hadn’t had time to develop fully fledged opinions and even if he had seen it before he’d be way too grumpy about it.

Every few minutes Derek would help Stiles a bit of his hot chocolate although once he did miss and a big splotch of lukewarm hot chocolate poured down his torso. Stiles wondered if it had been an intentional ploy so Derek could get him naked, but if it was he didn’t follow it up (he got a bit of tissue, if that counts). Stiles felt drowsy after the first film, but he insisted that they had to watch another (nobody stops after one film).

“We can talk if you prefer?” Stiles had asked.

“I’d rather not.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say, so he went on a tired tirade of film suggestions. They ended up watching The Princess and The Frog, well Stiles fell asleep immediately after Lawrence proposed to Charlotte so _Derek_ watched The Princess and The Frog.

He woke up, the film was nearly over, he snuggled himself into his cushion and then he realised that something was pushing onto his face. He realised that he was lying with his head on Derek’s crotch and the firm thing pushing against his face was Derek’s dick. Stiles stared at the screen as hard as he possibly could, but his mind could help but imagine that he could suck Derek’s cock from here while Derek watched a film. Probably not this film, that wouldn’t be particularly hot. No, that would be _fucking weird._

Derek’s dick twitched underneath his cheek. He knew that Derek was sniffing at his arousal. He’d have to calm about the idea. Derek’s hand landed in his hair and he started stroking it very slowly. Stiles rolled his head around slightly. He was still looking at the screen, but the corner of his mouth was pushing against Derek’s hardness. It was a shame that Derek was wearing jeans; though he would drool all over Derek’s boxers if the fucking denim wasn’t in the way and that would be a little weird.

The film was near the end yet it was moving slower than a glacier. Stiles was moving his head a little every so often, it wasn’t meant to be teasing or anything, he just couldn’t stay still. Everyone knew this, but right now that Stilinski bonus feature was not a good one. Derek’s fingers rubbing Stiles’ head wasn’t a help either, but Derek was being goaded by Stiles’ fidgeting. Stiles was too, mind, he could feel Derek’s erection pushing against the denim stubbornly every so often and every time Stiles noticed that it had subsided, it would return within a vengeance.

Stiles watched the final song of the film. He sat up and shuffled himself slightly closer to Derek. It was only a few moments after the end of the film that he could feel Derek pulling at his shirt and unbuttoning it faster than Stiles had even realised possible. Stiles leant forwards and starting to kiss Derek, the kiss wasn’t like before, it wasn’t controlled, it was heavy and loose. Derek managed to pull one sleeve over Stiles’ cast and the rest of the shirt came off with a few seconds.

Derek’s lips removed themselves from Stiles’ lips and licked along his chin and around his neck. Stiles threw his head back to bare his neck and Derek bit it gently. Stiles didn’t moan, it wasn’t pleasurable, it just hurt a lot. Derek’s tongue ran across his chest and Derek pushed Stiles back down onto the sofa.

“You made me all horny, boy. What should I do with you?”

Derek’s tongue lick around Stiles’ nipple.

“You… Should make me deal with the consequences, sir.”

“But your hands are out of order…” Derek almost whispered. His hand reached towards Stiles’ crotch. “Maybe you’ve realised you want me to fuck you. You liked my finger in the end didn’t you? You want to feel a man, boy?”

Stiles shook his head. “No, sir. I’m not ready.”

“Oh… I know what you want.” Derek’s smirk grew. “You want my dick rubbing all across your face again, don’t you?”

Derek tugged his own jeans off within a few moments and edged up the sofa. He thrust his crotch into Stiles’ face a little too fast. He heard Stiles take a sniff in as his balls still in his boxers rubbed up near his nose. Stiles’ mouth opened slightly to suck one of his testicles in. Derek rubbed himself all around Stiles’ face as much as he could. He pushed against firmly and rubbed himself up and around. His ball in Stiles mouth was starting to feel wet; he pushed the other ball towards Stiles.

“I see you like my balls, boy. They make real man juice in there… Bet you can’t wait to have the real taste of a man.” Derek’s hand came down and stroked Stiles’ face. He wish he’d not said something as cringingly unarousing as the concept of man juice. Stiles’ tongue run along the wet fabric of his boxers. Derek’s fingers pushed into Stiles’ mouth, firmly. Stiles applied a slight amount of suction Stiles’ began to gag.

“You can’t even take my fingers. How do you expect to be a real cocksucker if you can’t manage that?”

Stiles’ eyes widened as Derek’s hand pulled out of his mouth. It immediately stroked his neck. It was sticky and wet. Derek ran his nails over Stiles’ neck and Stiles hummed as he did so. Derek pulled the leg hole of his boxers to one side and pulled his testicles through. Stiles barely had an opportunity to react before he descended both of them into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles’ lips closed around them and his tongue ran them both around his mouth. Stiles built up the saliva and swished it around Derek’s balls like it was his job to bathe them in a jacuzzi. Derek moaned as Stiles sucked firmly on one of them letting the other fall onto his chin.

“You want this don’t you, boy?”

Stiles nodded. Derek stood up and pulled Stiles round on the sofa slightly. His head was leaning slightly off the end of the sofa. “So eager to taste a real man, you were even going to go without getting into the best position.”

Derek tilted Stiles’ head back off the side of the sofa. Derek knelt in front of him.. Derek pulled off his underwear and his crotch pushed forward again.

“If you don’t want to do this, now’s the moment to say.” Derek said.

Stiles didn’t say anything as he felt Derek’s hand stroke along his slightly moist neck.

Derek didn’t wait much longer before starting to move into Stiles’ mouth. At first he only let Stiles take a small amount, but he didn’t retreat. He pushed forwards as glacially as possible. Stiles’ gag reflexes started to come through and Derek urged him to swallow, he remembered reading that would help. Derek thrust gently, avoiding going as far as Stiles’ gag reflex. He tried to take a gentle pace, but he was struggling, he was trying to fight back against his desire for a release. His desire to take Stiles’ neck and fuck himself into it as hard as possible. His desire to let Stiles choke if he had to. Derek stopped thrusting when he started moving too fast, but when he did Stiles suckled him gently.

“Oh, so eager to keep me happy aren’t you, boy?” Derek smirked. “Do you want me to come in your mouth boy?”

Stiles nodded slightly. His head blocked from moving too far.

“Of course you do, you’re a comehungry cockslut aren’t you?” Derek thrusted in. He didn’t start slowly this time. There was nothing to go slowly for, he didn’t have to worry about coming now. He thrust as hard and fast as he could, avoiding pushing in too far. He could feel his balls swinging and hitting Stiles on the bridge of the nose and face. Derek pulled out slightly and jerked himself a little. His fingers left Stiles’ neck and moved back to his cheek as he came. The come came surprisingly fast and Stiles had to swallow pretty much immediately. Once Derek’s dick had stopped Stiles carried on caressing it with his tongue gently.

Derek eventually pulled himself out completely. Stiles pulled his head back and onto the sofa. He was ridiculously hard. Derek’s hands tugged on his jeans. He pushed his hand straight through the flap of his underwear and pulled Stiles’ erection out. Stiles was so relieved to have the removal of the pressure from his head.

“I think you did really good there, boy. Your mouth is mine now. I can tell you’re not going to last long though…”

Derek circled just his thumb and first finger around Stiles’ dick, almost as if he was making the ‘all clear’ sign. He pulled Stiles’ foreskin down with it and looked towards him.

Derek smirked as he jerked Stiles as slowly as he possibly could. Stiles squirmed slightly underneath him. “Bet you can’t wait till you can feel my beard rubbing against your balls when I suck your dick. I’d take you all the way, but I wouldn’t let you fuck my throat like I’m some bitch… I’d just see how long you could take it, my throat wrapped around your dick, your hips locked in position.”

Stiles groaned and Derek saw his hands try to tighten in his cast.

Derek smirked and pulled his head away from Stiles’ dick. He only used two fingers, but it was amazing. Stiles wanted more pressure, but at the same time he could feel Derek’s fingers hitting his head with such force he was surprised he wasn’t already coming. Derek was right though, he didn’t last long in the end. No sooner had he thought that he wasn’t near orgasm, Stiles was ejaculating. Derek’s hand caught all of Stiles’ come and lifted it towards his face.

Stiles almost gasped as he watched Derek rub it across the right hand side of his face. It tried to cling to his hand when he pulled away. A string of Stiles’ come hanging between Derek’s hand and face. The whole time Derek’s eyes and Stiles’ were in firm contact. Derek leant forward, “I like being able to smell my boy…” Derek paused a fraction away from Stiles, their lips almost touching, but not quite. “And to smell like him.”

Derek kissed Stiles, it was gentle and soft and… Stiles might even push as far as romantic, obviously the come on Derek’s face was a part of the whole role play thing they’d managed to get going, but the kiss itself, that was almost real. Stiles tried to suppress feelings of euphoria, Derek would be able to smell it. The kiss got more intense and _fine_ , so maybe kissing with tongues with Derek wasn’t the worst thing in the world and maybe Derek moaned into his mouth, but…

This was _definitely_ not platonic anymore. Stiles’ mind raced and Derek started to pull away.

“What’s up?” Derek asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

Stiles’ stomach grumbled, and before Stiles said anything.

“Oh, yeah. We need food. Still want pizza?”

Stiles nodded twice and Derek pulled away completely from him.


	5. A Baseball Sweater

The next morning at around three a.m. Stiles woke up. He glanced at the clock and threw himself back down on the bed. It was his bed. Well, _not_ Derek’s bed. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, it was strange enough when they’d _started_ sharing the same bed, it didn’t make sense that they’d stop so soon.

If this was about the kiss…

He was already perplexed by the whole kiss (as opposed to any particular part of it). He didn’t have a clue what to think. Kissing was pushing the line of being friends. Just because they were doing everything else didn’t mean that it gave automatic rights to kissing being a part of the whole two-bros-chilling agreement. The whole idea was leaving him bemused.

Derek couldn’t just kiss him and act like it had barely happened. Stiles didn’t even know what ‘barely happening’ would entail. A millisecond long kiss? It certainly wasn’t that, it was nice and it was way too long to be something as a simple show of affection. Stiles couldn’t recall the last time that he’d ever been kissed by someone who didn’t want to kill him. Obviously they were hardly comparable.

It didn’t matter though because Derek had been pushing him back every time Stiles had suggested that this whole thing could go somewhere more. They were just friends and nothing more. But Derek didn’t kiss Scott. Stiles coughed a laugh at the idea. So their relationship was a little different and it wasn’t like Derek and Scott would kiss under pretty much any circumstance, they struggle to see eye to eye half of the time. Stiles didn’t kiss any of his other friends either and as much as that wasn’t helpful to the problem Stiles did contemplate which friends of his he’d be happy to kiss. That wasn’t a clean cut list, but… okay so it only had Derek, but Stiles knew how _he_ felt and that wasn’t up for debate. Derek might be happy to make out with his friends, another one of these wolf things that Stiles hadn’t read about before.

Stiles thought back, there had to be clues somewhere along the way to why Derek would feel that it was okay to lead Stiles on. Then it hit Stiles, Derek had never been with a guy, he’d never kissed a guy or done anything with a guy. Neither had he, but that didn’t mean anything, for Derek the only memories he had of kissing people were…

Stiles tutted to himself. That was a stupid fucking idea. Derek might have been sad about his family, but it’s not going to bring back memories of little queen bitch and it wouldn’t trigger a kiss, and it certainly wouldn’t explain the second one. If Stiles had received the blowjob there is no way he’d be thinking about his mom. He wrinkled his nose. He started to acknowledge to himself that maybe he didn’t really know Derek’s thought processes that well at all.

The kiss might not have been platonic because it wasn’t a platonic kiss. Sure, Derek might not be in love with Stiles, but he had terrible self-confidence and as much as Stiles knew he could have everyone (at the same time if he asked), maybe he would be happy to settle for someone like Stiles. Or maybe Stiles himself.

Stiles hated that the _idea_ that Derek might settle for him gave him butterflies. He should be offended, but the concept pleased him. Derek wouldn’t have to worry about Stiles finding someone else, because Stiles would never manage to find anyone better and Derek wouldn’t be obliged to spend all of his time with Stiles, because Stiles would be moving away. Derek said he wasn’t a casual sex guy and he didn’t want to hook-up… It did seem weird that someone might say that _while_ in a thoroughly modern agreement…

Okay, so Stiles was dumbfounded, he could _not_ think of a reason which made sense. The more he thought, the more flaws he came up with for every idea, and perhaps most importantly the more full his bladder felt. He was desperate for the toilet, it was well past three a.m. now and he was ready to burst. This was _not_ his day and they were only a few hours into it.

Stiles rolled out of bed and walked through to Derek’s bedroom. He didn’t want angry alpha trying to kill him for being in his territory in the middle of the night so he tried to open the door as carefully and quietly as possible. When Stiles walked into the room he saw Derek… At least he _kind of_ saw Derek. He saw his wolf standing by the window, just watching the night go by, it was strange, all cooped up in the flat he’d forgotten that the moon would still be rotating around the earth.

Derek turned and tilted his head. He walked very calmly towards Stiles.

Stiles didn’t know what to say, he just stood there as the wolf came towards him, its nose sniffing heavily and twitching as it got closer. The wolf stood in front of Stiles and sniffed into Stiles’ neck, before tilting its own back slightly. Stiles was pretty sure that was a sign of trust or something. If it wasn’t the middle of the night maybe he’d have a fucking clue what that book said, but it was a good sign.

“I need the toilet.” Stiles said. “Obviously this isn’t the best night. I can come back after dawn.”

Stiles took a step backwards. Derek growled at him. His claws landing on Stiles’ waist. Stiles took a deep breath in, so maybe he _wasn’t_ coming back tomorrow. He was going to be killed by Derek for needing the fucking… Stiles felt the waist band in his trousers being pulled away from his skin on both sides. Derek’s claws were clumsily… no, they were _carefully_ removing Stiles’ trousers. They weren’t designed for this task.

Stiles had to admit that he was a little relieved, because he was _not_ prepared for another few hours of needing the toilet. Derek’s claws withdrew from the inside of Stiles’ waistband when he’d pulled it below Stiles’ bottom, the pyjamas dropped to the ground immediately. Stiles muttered quick thanks and ran to the toilet. He was _not_ a guy with a big bladder and he did not want to risk pissing himself in front of Derek.

When Stiles walked out of the bathroom, he started walking towards his bedroom when he felt a tug on his pyjama top. Stiles turned around, and Derek lifted him almost immediately. Stiles didn’t resist, he was too tired to bother. When he was placed down he realised from the strange softness of the bed that it was Derek’s.

“Derek, I’m not sleeping on my own in your bed.” Stiles said as Derek placed covers over his body.

Derek grumbled a little and moved round to lie on top of the covers of the other side.

“I thought that your bed was meant to be your sacred space of territory? Like your pack can go anywhere, but your bed is the most sacred of territories in the world and you’d kill if someone tried to use it?”

Derek didn’t say anything, he probably couldn’t. Stiles couldn’t remember a full moon where any of the wolves had spoken anything except maybe the odd curse word (why is it that the f-word can get through, but all modicum of normal speech couldn’t?). Stiles felt Derek’s arm land on top of his torso.

Stiles didn’t take long to be on the verge of sleep, which isn’t surprising for a man who used the phrase ‘sacred space of territory’. The strange thing was though, that even though he was lying in Derek’s bed, with the wolf’s permission it didn’t stop him from feeling that it was some weird invasion. Wolves were meant to share a bed with their mate and that was it.

Stiles didn’t jolt awake. His mind just repeated the thought back to him a few times, it didn’t necessarily mean anything. He’d already shared a bed with Derek for days and days. Stiles’ eyes started to close, he wasn’t asleep yet, but he was having a moment of clarity. Derek had taken him in, he’d looked after him, he’d bought him the foods he liked, he’d stayed with him every moment of every day and he’d not complained about it. Derek had even put a room in his house for him.

Stiles’ eyes felt heavier, they were already closed, but he felt his mind begin to power down. Maybe Derek really liked him.

-

Stiles felt a pair of arms snuggle into him. Human arms. He opened his eyes a little, the curtains open wide, the dawn light streaming through. He slammed his eyes shut when the light streamed through. It was far too bright for first thing in the morning. Stiles felt Derek’s neck nuzzle into the back of his. They weren’t really spooning, Stiles wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but Derek basically seemed to be treating him like an oversized cuddly toy.

Stiles elbowed Derek slightly so he could roll over and lie down on his back. Derek pulled away slowly and Stiles rolled. Derek lifted himself up onto his arms and leant down to kiss Stiles gently on his lips. It was very gentle. It was…

Stiles’ mind wandered again. He couldn’t do this to himself if Derek didn’t want to be with him. He deserved better than being strung along any further. His gut flipped.

Derek pulled away from Stiles quickly, “You’re not enjoying this?”

“No, no, I’m enjoying it very much.”

Derek’s nose twitched. “You’re confused? Do you not want… this?”

Stiles nodded. “This doesn’t feel like just friends anymore is it? Because I’m starting to feel like we should talk if it isn’t. Like…” Stiles paused, Derek’s breath was still landing on his face.

Derek pulled his body away slightly, as though he was pre-empting Stiles declaring his love for him, trying to get away after making a terrible mistake.

“Right, so… I know that you never really liked me before.” Stiles said.

“That’s not true, I’ve always liked you.”

“I mean, like-me like-me.”

“I –”

“Let me just say what I want to say. You’ve never wanted to spend time with me. You’re always being grumpy… Look I just want you to know that I only want to do this if you want the same things as I do.”

Derek stared at Stiles and said nothing.

“Your wolf put me in this bed last night and I’m not an expert on your mating rituals, so throw me a bone here. I was under the impression that we were sharing a bed for ease of whatever. Then you kiss me and I don’t understand what this means anymore.” said Stiles.

“Stiles…” Derek moved towards Stiles to kiss him, but he felt a cast hit him in the stomach.

“Answer my question.”

Derek shook his head. “I’m too old for you. You should have someone of your own age.”

Stiles shut his eyes. “That is so not something to be saying with you lying naked on top of me.”

Derek pulled himself off Stiles and moved to lie next to him.

“I just want to know how you’re feeling about this.” Stiles said. “About when my casts come off.”

“You won’t need me to get you off any more.” Derek sighed.

“No. You’re right.” Stiles stopped dead in his tracks and moved to get out of the bed. “I’m sorry I even brought this up. I’m going to go to my room.”

Derek jumped out of bed and blocked the door. “Stiles. I want you to know that you don’t need to blame yourself for this. I did it knowing that you wouldn’t want me forever and I admit that it was a stupid idea, using your situation to try and get what I wanted, but I knew you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Stiles gawped. He pulled his head back a little bit, “I’ve always wanted to jump you. I thought you knew that? Scott told me I smell so aroused near you it’s ridiculous.”

“But…” Derek’s eyebrow furrowed. “You’re always horny.”

“A _round you.”_ Stiles’ eyes widened. “ _Oh my God._ You only smell me around you? I… I mean, yeah obviously you can only smell me when I’m around you, if I wasn’t around you I wouldn’t be scentable or whatever the term is. Urgh, of course I’m always horny when I’m near you because I have wanted to fuck you since like the first moment I saw you. I thought you knew, but of course. This is ridiculous, Scott tried telling me that you didn’t know, but I thought he was taking the piss given how every other wolf we know has been all over the scent of my boner for you and y’know how you get all knowingly high and mighty about every other emotion I have.”

Stiles stopped speaking suddenly. Derek’s breath pushing against his face, Stiles’ eyes glanced down to Derek’s lips.

“Does this mean we could we have been doing this the whole time?”

Derek didn’t say anything, he stared at Stiles. Derek moved in to kiss Stiles, but Stiles started speaking again.

“This is so totally cool, you should have totally told me that you wanted to ride the Stilinski train and then we would have been on our way. I mean, I’m not sure how long distance is going to work. I mean, I’ll be a whole country away from you, -”

“Stiles.” Derek interrupted, “There’s more to this than deciding we’re in a relationship. You’re going to one of the best colleges in the world, it would be stupid to waste your life in Beacon Hills with my pack.”

Stiles shook his head, “I’m always going to live nearby, Dad only has me and there are things that I can do from here. If I can’t find anything, I can go into the force and it can be a Stilinski family tradition in the making and given the fact your pack has _no_ members asides from me I don’t think that’s a valid excuse anyway.”

“I don’t want you to waste away your life on me.”

“Derek, you want to adopt werewolf orphans and build me a room so I can do werewolf drugs, if you think for one moment that’s a waste then you are so wrong. So we need a plan… How about, we go to get these casts taken off, do some _incredibly_ dirty things involving both of my arms and then we can go to tell my Dad I’m moving in here for the rest of the summer. Maybe we should tell him sooner rather than later, so he can get used to the idea. Oh, and no offence, but just because we’re doing this does not mean I’m stopping my love of masturbation because I am totally ready to rediscover my dick after all this time.

“Yo, dude! You can also start charging your East Coast clients for you to travel and do face to face meetings and you get to visit me. Also, you get to join me for spring break and…” Stiles took a deep breath, “I think that’s enough of a plan for now, don’t you?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Will I get a say in this?”

“No.” Stiles said and he moved forwards to kiss Derek. He pulled away. “Hey, so I was thinking that you should let me take one of your tops, so I still smell like you at university. I can wear it once a week, and…”

“Is that literally all you’re going to say about us dating?”

“You’ve wiped my ass for like a month and even willingly offered to do so, I sort of figured it was all about pack at first and your creepy sense of duty. But y’know in hindsight I wouldn’t have jerked off Scott if he broke his arms and heck, I’d probably not look after him constantly for _six weeks,_ maybe a day or two at most, but…”

Stiles stopped abruptly. Derek nodded for him to carry on.

“Then there was the whole buying my favourite hot chocolate and come on, who does that if they don’t drink it themselves? It was covered in dust so don’t pretend you bought it after I moved in. It’s obvious you want me so we can just make a move towards something proper.”

“You make it sound Victorian”

“You’re the one that won’t have sex before marriage.”

Derek ignored the comment, “I was being too obvious, I was trying to be subtle.”

“Derek, you’re not a natural sharer of feelings and I remember reading all that shit about languages of love, I know acts of service and physical contact when I see it. Me, I’m all about things that make me think of you, quality time and words of affirmation and obviously that meant that when I talk you up I’m thinking I’m being really clear and, -”

“You thought this through a lot, didn’t you?”

“I…” Stiles shrugged. “I don’t have much else to do with my arms out of order. Anyway, I think you should cuddle me properly.”

Derek pulled Stiles into a hug. They were still stood net to the bed.

“Oh and as a gift item thing, you’re letting me take your baseball top to New England with me, so all the wolves there know I still belong to you.”

“I have only one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You’re only allowed to jerk off in that top.”

“What if I get horny in bed?”

“You get out of bed, put on that top and then jerk off.”

“What if someone puts a gun to my head and tells me to jerk off, but your top isn’t around or he wants a different top on, like he wants me to wear a Giants’ top or something?”

“Then you jerk off, call me, I’ll kill him, _then_ you jerk off in my top.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Okay, fine. But if you’re coming all that way then I am so expecting not to have to do it myself.”

Derek shook his head and pushed his head into Stiles’ shoulder and nuzzled him slightly. He sniffed in, he smelt like home, he smelt like pack and he smelt like the fresh rain over the lake on a warm summer’s day.

-

**Two Weeks Later**

-

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell my Dad I was moving in with you.” Stiles snorted as he climbed into the Camaro. He pulled on his seatbelt and with a little bit of heavy concentration he clicked it in.

“Stiles, I’m not responsible for telling the Sheriff about your every move.”

“You kept on texting him! I assumed it would have come up eventually.”

“Yes, it would have done if I’d known that I was meant to be telling him.”

“You’re allowed to be scared. It doesn’t make you any less of a big scary alpha.”

“I’m not scared. I just didn’t know.”

“Aw. I never thought I’d be dating a conscientious objector. I’m guessing that means that Scott doesn’t know either?”

“There’s nothing wrong with pacifists.” Derek’s eyes narrowed and he glanced over to Stiles as he pulled out of the hospital car park. “You’ve spoken to Scott repeatedly this week. He’s _your_ friend.”

“I thought he was playing it cool! I mentioned that we were doing things and he seemed totally unphased, I thought you’d told him.” Stiles buried his face into his hand. “This is going to be so awful. He’s going to think I was hiding it from him.”

Derek shook his head as Stiles leapt into a story about that one time in ninth grade when he made new friends with a girl that Scott had a super massive crush on, but Stiles didn’t know how to tell him, so he spent months and months pretending that he barely knew the girl whenever Scott was around and it wasn’t until one day she’d come up to him in the corridor to have a chat that Scott discovered the whole situation.

“He didn’t speak to me for the whole afternoon.”

“Maybe Scott has met someone at the camp and you get off the hook. You did say someone tried to bite his ear off.”

“That was a case _against_ him meeting someone, not a case in favour. Oh my god, you’re not going to do that to me are you?”

Derek shook his head. “Some wolves try to assert dominance as early as possible. It’s especially important if they’re both wolves.”

“Weird. So how are we going to double team this? Should you tell my Dad and I tell Scott?”

“This is not a fair distribution of labour. You can tell them both at the same time.”

Stiles snapped open his seatbelt as they arrived at the house. He leant over and gave Derek a quick peck on the cheek, before climbing out of the car. Stiles looked over at Derek and waited for him to walk over. They went towards the door in silence and before Stiles could knock (sure it’s technically his house, but he’s not lived here in weeks, it was the polite thing to do) Scott had bound out of the door and pulled Stiles into a hug. Scott pulled away after Derek growled at him (it’s not his fault, the hug lasted nearly fifteen seconds).

“Down boy.” Stiles said with a quick (yet stern) glance over his shoulder.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to join a pack?” Scott grumbled.

“Hey, hey!” Stiles held his hands up. “That was _before_ Derek helped my damsel in distress.”

“Damsel in distress?” Scott ground his jaw a little. “I do _not_ want to know.”

Stiles pulled Derek’s arm around to his waist. “I’m planning on moving in with Derek until the end of the summer anyway.”

Scott gawped and stared at Derek. Even Stiles could tell that he was about to protest, but before he could Derek had interrupted.

“Did the woman who bit you try to initiate further mating?”

Scott’s eyes widened and he quickly looked back to Stiles. “Wow, that’s awesome. It’s only a few weeks till college. We’ve gotta’ do a video game night or something, Derek’s TV is so awesome.”

Derek rolled his eyes as he felt Stiles pull away and walk into the house nattering with Scott like they were two old ladies. Scott told Stiles _almost_ everything. Derek tried engaging in conversation with Stiles’ Dad, but it seemed the grace period of him looking after Stiles had ended and he was getting the weirdest interrogation ever (so maybe he was just being probed on his intentions with Stiles), but fortunately there were only so many ways the question ‘are you marrying my son or not?’ could be asked, and thankfully they only took about an hour.

Derek watched as Stiles’ Dad took out six plates.

“I didn’t realise Melissa was joining us.”

“She’s not. Ariana said that she wanted to come as well, so.”

Derek smirked. “Bet you’ve been glad to have Stiles out of the house.”

Stiles’ Dad laughed. “You can hardly date with a son in the house constantly and a job that doesn’t give you much leeway. I’ve been called out on three of my dates with Ariana.”

“Not to mention that Stiles needs constant supervision at the best of times. He walked into a door on the way out of the hospital.”

“Hey!” Stiles shouted over, “It was a glass door. I couldn’t see it. It’s not my fault!”

Derek listened to another incessant speech about how doors shouldn’t be made out of glass (it’s not their natural state) and how if hospitals wanted people to be healthy they should remove them all as soon as possible because it’s only a matter of time before they cart a hospital bed into one and they cause a massive and surprisingly fatal bed pile-up.

“That’s a nice story, son.” The Sheriff shook his head as he turned back to the oven. “I should probably tell you now that Ariana is coming for dinner.”

Stiles glared at him. She was _what_ now? “Dad, I’m moving in with Derek.”

The Sheriff glared at Derek and Derek glared at Stiles (Scott just stayed in a world of his own). And The Sheriff and Stiles quickly jumped into speech to defend themselves. Derek moved over to sit with Scott. They sat mostly in silence (after Derek explained who Ariana was) and listened to the discussions pan out.

Scott looked to Derek and tilted his head. “If you think that this is intense, wait until Thanksgiving. Last year The Sheriff didn’t believe that Stiles was bisexual, but Stiles’ grandmother was well into it, it was both creepy and endearing.”

“I… uh.” Derek looked to Stiles arguing with his father, and hesitated. They weren’t arguing through hatred, they were arguing through love of one another and the discussion between the two of them was healthy and not bitter. It didn’t matter either way though, Stiles’ father was just doing his duty to his son and Stiles was doing his duty to his father, looking after each other and trying to figure out what was best for each other.

It was family. Derek thought for a moment more, they were pack.

“I’m looking forward to it.” He eventually said.

Scott smiled and nodded, tuning back in to Stiles telling his father that he can’t date someone half his age.

“Once you get used to it, they’re mostly harmless.”

**-**

**Epilogue (A Few Weeks Later)**

**-**

Stiles’ body was being shook heavily. He opened his eyes slightly, the beeping of the alarm penetrating his eardrum. He was being pulled to sit upright. Stiles didn’t have a clue why the beeping was so loud. He glanced over to the clock, it was _eight fucking a.m._ Stiles did not approve of Derek waking him up at this time. They’d discussed what time they were getting up today.

“This is too early, Derek. We said we were getting up at eleven.” Stiles tried to push Derek away with his arm, but it failed miserably. “Unless you intend on blowing me back to sleep, then I suggest you turn that alarm off and fuck off.”

“Stiles. It’s going to rain soon.”

“ _Oh! Why didn’t you say?_ How did you know that freak weather events like rain are what I wake up for?” Stiles threw himself back down on the bed, but Derek pulled him back up again.

“You need to prepare for the jetlag, it’s eleven on the east coast so stop complaining. You can sleep in the car, we’re going out.”

Stiles groggily agreed. (Well, he nearly did he sort of let out a groan of ‘fine’ and threw himself back down on the bed in hopes that Derek would stop harassing him). He was so if he’d be allowed to sleep at some point then this couldn’t be the _worst_ possible plan in the world. Derek began to undress him from his pyjamas and start dressing him again. Derek pushed his erection into his trousers. The whole thing was vaguely unerotic, almost like he’d been transported back two months.

Stiles drew the line at being carried down to the car though, he wasn’t a fucking invalid (fine, Derek was worried after he tripped down the stairs a few days ago, but it was only the last two stairs and that step was slightly wet, so it wasn’t entirely his fault). He found the car journey was annoyingly bumpy and sleeping through it was only possible based on sheer determination and a late night the night before.

“Stiles, we’re here.”

Stiles opened his eyes. He recognised where they were. They were at the Hale House.

“Why did you bring me here?” Stiles murmured as Derek’s arm pulled him towards the East of the house. “Oh god, you’re going to shoot me and bury me in the garden? That’s such a movie cliché, I thought we were going to last forever and ever!”

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

So for nearly fifteen minutes Stiles did. Stiles was told to follow Derek, and he decided that he might as well agree to that part (he’d been woken up at eight he might as well see what was so special), he trod carefully and simultaneously tried to keep his eyes on what was beyond the forest. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was meant to be looking for, maybe Derek had finally agreed that a garden was a bloody good idea. Stiles saw the lake. “Derek, I’ve seen the lake a million times, I get it, your family is rich. The fact we’ve walked for nearly a year and are still on your territory.”

Derek growled at him and pulled him further along. Eventually Derek came to a stop and turned to face Stiles directly. “Okay, so I’m not good at speeches and surprises. You told me you wanted to smell love and this is where you’ll be able to do it. The rain clouds are going to burst soon, I can smell it, we’re going to go to sit under the willow tree.”

Stiles nodded and followed Derek as he guided him to the willow tree. They sat under it, Stiles resting himself on Derek’s shoulder. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulder.

“My grandfather planted it when my grandma got pregnant with my mother. I used to come out here and sit under the tree and read, I never really understood why I should spend all my time with my pack, but my mother insisted that I must, so she started coming out here and just reading with me. We read different books and it was in complete silence pretty much all the time, but that’s what I think of when I come here.

“I always missed this tree when I moved away, and sometimes I felt that I missed it more than I missed my family. So, when I talked to Laura about it she blamed it on me being a hormonal teenager, but when I moved back home, this tree still smelt like pack and it was… You used to infuriate me because you smelt like this tree and…

“Well Stiles, you asked what love smells like, and it smells like this tree, and it smells like you, and it smells like…”

The rain started to fall heavily from the onset, it was a downpour. The sound of the water hitting the leaves above and the lake around was incredible. The smell of fresh rain filled Derek’s nose, there was nothing like the smell of rain.

“It smells like that.”

“I love you too, Derek.”

Stiles felt Derek’s arms around him tighten and he closed his eyes. He listened to Derek’s breathing and relaxed into Derek. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be back, but at least in the meantime he had Derek’s baseball sweater…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over. And Stiles gets all his baseball top related fantasies. (Yay!)
> 
> Also, there's a great charity event [The Big 24 Fanathon](http://thebig24.livejournal.com/) which is operating around this time next month. It'll have fiction auctions and other fan works being auctioned and we of course want people to be donating works or commissions if possible. BUT either way, it's a live twenty-four hour broadcast to talk about all the fandom and we'd love to have more viewers to discuss the nerdy things on the 14th and 15th of June from 12PM EDT for 24 Hours!  
> (Please come it makes the party all the more awesome.


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